Kidnapped
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: Sequel to "Gemini". AU, set in season one. Richie and his sister are kidnapped by a group of Immortals who are targeting Duncan; but they don't want his head, they want him to suffer.
1. Chapter 1

Kidnapped

Author's Note: The idea to this story came from a suggestion made by one of the readers for its predecessor, Gemini; which was the origin for my character of Richie's sister, Richelle Ryan. Hope you enjoy!

It was a few days before Halloween and New York City was crawling full of even more frightening looking freaks than usual. Connor MacLeod was accustomed to all the lower forms of life however, he'd been living there for many years; and he considered himself above being surprised by just about anything anymore, but what he hadn't counted on was receiving an unexpected visitor that afternoon.

"Duncan told me that you were flying out to Paris to see some relatives," he told Tessa, "He didn't tell me that you were stopping through New York first."

"He doesn't know," Tessa said, "I told him the flight was nonstop to France, but I couldn't go without seeing how Richie and his sister were doing, we were starting to get worried after not hearing from them for a few days."

"Oh yeah, those two have been holed up in the bedroom for the last week, trying to crack some new computer game Richelle got," Connor explained, "6th King Quest or something like that. Has a hundred different ways to die in it and they keep getting thrown back to the beginning."

"I didn't know Richelle had a computer," Tessa said.

"Well she and Richie talked me into getting it for them, they've won the last five games in the series but they're stumped on this one, something about puzzles and catacombs and trap doors and spears flying through the walls. And when they aren't doing that, they're getting their costumes ready for a Halloween party…won't let anybody in, won't let anybody see until they're ready."

"Why's that?" Tessa asked.

"I have no idea."

Tessa sat down across from Connor and said, "I'm really glad that you've been letting Richie come out here and stay with the two of you, he seems to really enjoy it."

"Well he _is_ family," Connor replied, "Besides, Richelle gets a kick out of it, it gives her somebody new to drag into her plans, and leave me alone. But tell me, how does Duncan like having Richelle come out to Seacouver every month to stay with you two?"

Tessa smiled a little and answered, "I think you know how much he likes it, he doesn't."

"Good, that's what I thought," Connor laughed.

Connor got up and went over to the door to Richelle's room and called in, "Listen up you two monkeys, Tessa's got a plane to catch in an hour, so get out here and let her see you."

"We'll be right out," they heard Richelle call back.

A minute later the door opened and out first was Richie, who was holding his head as high as was possible while wearing a white dress, a chocker bead necklace and a bright red tight permed wig.

Tessa successfully managed for the most part not to laugh, though one minor snort did get past her. "Uh, Richie, it's very…"

"It's drafty is what it is," Richie replied.

"That's what you've been working on all week? Why are you dressed up like Wilma Flintstone?" Connor asked.

"Well," Richie started to answer, "There's a very good reason for that…one of us had to be, and I lost the toss."

"Oh boy," Connor laughed, "I can't wait to see what Richelle's going as."

"Oh I think you can," Richie told him.

The door opened again and Richelle stepped out looking completely different from her brother; her face was caked in a pale makeup powder, her hair was covered by a short, flaming hot red wig, and her clothes were a mess of blue and red and yellow, a pair of plastic red boots, and a blue guitar slung over her shoulder.

"Greetings, Earth intelligentsia or lack thereof," she announced, "My name is Ziggy Stardust and I am here to entertain you."

Connor was about to fall over from laughing but Tessa went over to Richelle, looked her over and only commented, "Richelle, you look terrific, but where'd you get the guitar from?"

"I stole it," Richelle answered with a smirk on her face.

"Where else?" Connor asked, "You look ridiculous."

"So what?" she replied, "This is New York, and it's Halloween, nobody's going to notice. Tessa are you sure you can't stay and see how we do in the costume contest on Sunday?"

"I'd love to, but I've got a plane to catch," Tessa explained.

"I've heard that one before," Richie said.

"Well you can tell me all about it when I get back," Tessa said, "In a couple of weeks."

"By then we'll be back in Seacouver," Richelle told her.

"So will I."

"I knew there was a catch," Richelle said, "Well come on, Richie, let's get this whore paint off."

"I'm not wearing any makeup!" Richie told her.

"Sure," Richelle sarcastically replied, "And I'm wearing a pushup bra." She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back towards her room, "Come on, Wilma!"

Connor and Tessa stayed in the living room and laughed. "Are you sure you can't stay a while longer?" Connor asked her.

"I'd love to but I really must be going," Tessa told him, "They go back to Duncan on Monday, and I'll be home in a couple weeks after that. I wouldn't think they could get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

* * *

><p>"You know, Richelle," Richie said as he looked around her room as they finished changing back into their regular clothes, "When we first met you said your room didn't have as much crap as mine does…well what do you call all of this stuff?"<p>

There was enough available space on the floor for them to walk through the room but that was the only good part. The room looked like a tornado had blown through; toys were scattered everywhere, a pile of comic books rested by the bed, there was a large drum set over to one wall, a bowling ball by the trunk, over to another wall was a desk with a computer and a few floppy disk games, and a mess of junk in between everything else.

"Hey, this stuff is not crap, it's all very important to me," she told him.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," Richie said as he picked up a large Gremlin doll she had propped on the nightstand by her bed, "What's this for?"

"I've had that since the movie came out, I can't possibly part with it now," Richelle said.

Richie put the doll down and picked up a blue rag by the bed, "And how about this?"

Richelle grabbed the rag and unfolded it, "That's my Superman T-shirt."

"I didn't know you were a fan of Superman," Richie said.

"I'm not," she said, "I use it when I play Jesus in Godspell," she said, "You never saw that, did you, Rich?"

"No, I didn't," he said.

"Oh it's good," she said, and started to sink into character, "What if your brother…"

"You already did that back home, I remember that," Richie said, "And you're not knocking me into that drum set over there like you did Mac."

Richelle grinned and said in response, "That was good though, you have to admit that."

"He didn't think so," Richie reminded her.

"Well he doesn't like anything," she insisted, "Especially me. Even now he doesn't acknowledge me as being in the family."

"Oh come on, Richelle, don't start that again," Richie said.

"Come on, Richie, we're all adults here, you know he hates me, he's never outright said it but he doesn't hide it either, and I've given him plenty of time to get used to me."

"Richelle, he could live another 400 years and he'd _still_ never get used to you, there's not enough time in the world for that."

"Very funny," Richelle bitterly replied, and reached for the nearest thing within her reach to bash him over the head with, but before she could, he saw her coming and jumped out of the way.

* * *

><p>On Halloween night, Richie and his sister headed to a bar on Second Avenue and mingled among the other freaks of New York's night hours. They danced and tossed back a few drinks and made a little lively talk amongst the night's undead; and with neither being Immortal they were completely unaware that there were two people in particular watching them at the bar that night. The two men who stayed close to the back and drew no attention to themselves watched the two young redheads and picked up every word of whatever conversation they had either amongst themselves or their friends. Later in the night, one of the two men went to a phone and called a third associate to let him know that all was going according to plan and awaited further instructions; which were that they were to keep close surveillance on the two subjects and wait until they received further word to make their next move.<p>

The only concern on either teenager's mind was that tomorrow they'd have to go back to Seacouver and stay with Duncan for the next two weeks. They tried to push the idea to the backs of their minds for the rest of the evening and enjoy their last night in New York. Finally around midnight they left the bar and headed back to Connor's place, and once there, they stripped out of wigs, jewelry and funny looking clothes and back into their regular clothes and their normal frightening faces and relayed the night's events to Connor, who was smart enough to stay home that night.

"And now what do you two have planned?" he asked.

"Now we're commandeering the TV in the living room," Richelle told him, "There's a marathon of horror movies on tonight and it's always better on a bigger screen."

"Somehow I saw that one coming," Connor replied as he got up from the couch, "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight," they called after him.

Connor stopped short of reaching his bedroom and doubled back to them and said, "I think I recall hearing that X the Unknown is going to be showing on channel 91."

"What's that?" Richie asked.

"Oh you haven't seen it?" Connor asked, then smirked as he added, "Good, neither has Richelle, I think you'll both find it very…stimulating." Then he turned on his heel and murmured a sinister laugh as he headed back to his bedroom.

"What was that about?" Richie asked.

"He's weird," Richelle answered simply, "Everybody knows those old movies aren't scary."

* * *

><p>And about an hour later, Connor quietly passed through the living room towards the kitchen and saw the room was dark and the only light on was coming from the black and white picture on the TV screen, and he saw that Richie and Richelle weren't anywhere near the TV. He looked and saw the two of them backed up to one corner of the living room with their eyes wide open and their arms around each other's necks like a couple of children as the movie neared its climax. He didn't say a word to them but knowingly smiled like the Cheshire cat as he headed into the kitchen.<p>

These living conditions weren't easy by any means, but he believed they were necessary; ever since they'd found out that Richie had a twin sister living in New York in much the same manner that he had been over on the other side of the country. Every month one twin would fly over to the other coast to spend two weeks with their sibling and whatever adults were around as well. He'd had the kids for almost all of October because they wanted to stay in New York for Halloween; but tomorrow morning they'd be getting on an airplane heading back to Seacouver, and he was sure within the hour they landed, he'd be getting a phone call from his cousin complaining about one thing or another that Richelle was doing wrong.

Connor had to laugh, somehow Duncan had managed to live for 400 years and he had walked away from many fights, battles, and wars, most times the victor, but somehow he had absolutely no idea what to do with an 18 year old girl staying at his home for 2 weeks every other month. He already had enough trouble figuring out what to do with Richie, and compared to his sister, Richie was no trouble at all.

Maybe it was because Connor had almost 100 years more on his cousin, or maybe he somehow managed to stay more in touch with the current younger generations, but for whatever reason, Connor never had any of the trouble with the two that Duncan did; and he especially couldn't figure out what Duncan's problem with Richelle was, _he_ liked the girl, he'd taken her in, made her a member of the family, gave her $5,000 to survive on incase she ever decided to take off, and he'd taken her 3,000 miles to meet her brother and arranged to this joint custody of sorts so the two could be together and bond. Connor firmly believed at that time that it was in Richie's best interest to meet his sister because he knew the boy had a confusing enough time already in failing to find out where he came from. And he knew that Richie didn't have a lot of friends and was usually left to his own devices; at least this way he always had a partner in crime with him.

For a while Connor started to entertain the notion that maybe when he put Richie and his sister on that 747 tomorrow that he ought to go along with them; if nothing else it would keep Richelle from playing her naked-man-on-the-wing game with the other passengers and causing mass hysteria on board, he was getting tired of receiving phone calls from the airline about that. Also, he believed it would help if he was around to help keep WWIII from breaking out in Duncan and Tessa's loft; it was bad enough when both of them were there but Tessa was gone for two weeks, it'd be just the kids and Duncan, and that was a deadly combination, he was sure of it. There was also the fact that when they came to New York this last time, something had been wrong; something had happened back in Seacouver that neither they nor Duncan were willing to tell him about, but he was determined to find out before they left the next day.

* * *

><p>In the morning Connor had come out and found a mess on the living room floor; empty soda cans knocked over, popcorn and pieces of potato chips everywhere, and Richie and his sister were asleep sprawled out in the midst of it all on pillows and blankets they'd bunched up in the middle of the floor. There was a long running theory that children always looked cute when they were asleep and quiet for the only time of the day, and the scene before him was no exception; he about hated to get them up, but he did and had them get dressed and get everything straightened up.<p>

"Do we _have_ to go back today?" Richelle asked as she folded up the blankets.

"You can't put this off forever," Connor told her, "And I might remind you that this was your idea."

"My idea was compromise or we'd disappear on you," she replied, "It was you and your idiot cousin's idea to play boomerang with us."

"I don't get you two," Connor said, "I know neither of you gets along well with Duncan, but this time when you came back, neither said one word about what happened to cause the problem this time."

"It's just more of the usual," Richelle finally admitted, "That moronic cousin of yours insults my intelligence."

"What now?" Connor asked.

"Okay, the last time we were there, we have a little fun and MacLeod gets all bent out of shape, bitching and moaning about us." And that was where the long story began.

* * *

><p>Duncan came upstairs to find out just who it was who was playing with a paddleball and made the ball break off, bounce down the stairs, hit and knock over a priceless 14th century vase. But when he got to the head of the stairs, he was dumbstruck; the paddle in question rested in the hand of an alabaster statue of a naked man, Richie and Richelle were nowhere to be found. He finally caught them a short while later as they were trying to sneak out.<p>

"Alright," he said as he marched them in to see the shattered pieces of the vase, "Who's responsible for this?"

"Well…" Richie started to say.

"You are," Richelle answered to Duncan.

"What!"

"Well it's your own fault," she said, "If you hadn't left that vase there, it would never have gotten broken."

Duncan did a double take when he heard that. He grabbed them both by the arms and told them to clean up the mess.

"Or what?" Richelle asked, "You're going to take me over your knee and _spank_ me? I bet you'd like that, probably gets you off." In her typical demeanor, Richelle was emphasizing the sleaze in every word as she said it.

"Don't think it's not a tempting idea," Duncan told her, "The way you're acting right now…"

"And how is that?" she asked.

"Like a couple of rotten kids," Duncan answered.

"Regardless of how we act, MacLeod," Richelle told him, "It would do you well to remember that Richie and I are both 18, meaning we could legally be tried as adults in your murder trial. And if you hit an adult, that qualifies as assault, which means either we can press charges against you, you go to jail and the business you and Tessa worked so hard on goes right out the window with your face plastered on the front page for battering; or, we can be expected to hit you back in self defense, and if you _would_ so much as lay a hand on us, I'd bash your face in, then when it healed I'd bash it in again and again and again."

Duncan put his hands on his sides and hunched down as he asked her, "And where do you come off acting so high and mighty?"

"It comes with the territory, MacLeod," she replied as she mocked him by putting her hands on her sides and hunching down likewise, "What life did you have growing up? A mother and a father? A whole damn clan to belong to and they protected you? And you lived with them until you were 30 years old and killed in battle. Richie and I never had any of that, we've been on our own all our lives and we've survived…so if anybody's acted like a kid, it's _you_. And I might remind you, it looks _very_ bad for you when a 400 year old man has to resort to _beating_ a couple of adults to make them obey him like a sadistic dog trainer, because he's too mentally incompetent to communicate with them verbally."

Duncan was left awestruck by what she said and he didn't know how to respond to that, so Richelle took that opportunity to take a step closer to him and add, "Besides, any idiot over 10 knows that a paddleball's going to break and the ball's going to hit something, and you're 400 years old so what's your excuse for letting us have it in the first place?"

* * *

><p>"Now I know why you're not looking forward to going back to Seacouver," Connor said, "How did Duncan respond to that?"<p>

"About as you'd expect," Richelle answered, "He made a lot of threats but he lost the battle of wits through forfeit because he was unarmed to begin with."

"I see," Connor said.

"So do we still have to go back?" Richie asked.

"I'm afraid so but if you'd like, I'd be very happy to pay my cousin a visit," Connor said, "Maybe take him over _my_ knee and give him a piece of my mind."

"Thanks for the offer, Connor, but we can handle ourselves," Richelle told him, "That's the whole point I was trying to make to that idiot Duncan. Richie and I are adults, we can take care of ourselves just fine."

"Okay, now," Connor said, getting both their attentions, "Are you going to behave yourself when you get back?"

"No," Richie answered.

"Good, give him hell!" he laughed, "Okay, have a good trip and I'll see you in two weeks."

"Right," Richelle turned around and saw her brother dressed in a regular pair of blue jeans, his red boots, and a stars and stripes T-shirt he'd gotten at one of the shops there.

"What is it?" Richie asked, not understanding why she was staring at him.

"Take that thing off!" she told him as she went over to him, "What're you trying to do, get us killed?"

"Ow!" Richie replied when she hit him over the head, "What'd I do?"

"Take off that shirt!" Richelle told him, "If Iranian terrorists hijack our plane we're going to be the first people whose brains they blow out!" she hit him again for good measure, "Every idiot knows you don't wear anything political or patriotic on an airplane because those are the first people they kill! Where're your brains? Combat and survival, Richie, don't you know _anything_ about that?"

"Alright that's enough out of you," Connor said as he came up behind Richelle and grabbed her, "Leave him alone, Richie go change your shirt before you leave."

"Is what she said true?" Richie asked, "Would they kill us just for that if we got hijacked?"

Connor nodded his head in answer.

"Rough airline," Richie murmured.

* * *

><p>As Richie and Richelle walked to the airport, they had no idea that they were being followed; nor did they have any idea that their stalker made a phone call to his associates again to report that everything was going as planned and that they would be leaving on the 9:45 to Seacouver. They didn't know anything about that. They went to the airport, went through the metal detector, carried their bags onboard with them and took a couple of seats away from the window. Both were nervous about flying so even before the plane took off they engaged in conversation about anything and everything they could think of to take their minds off the flight.<p>

"You're lying," Richie said as they sat down.

"I am telling you, Richie," she said, "Somewhere out there is an old Disney cartoon with Donald Duck as a Nazi, you ask Connor when we land, he'll tell you, he was there when it came out. Everywhere you look it's swastikas and 'Heil Hitler! Heil Hirohito! Heil Mussolini!'"

"Unbelievable."

Richelle leaned in closer to Richie and told him, "Now remember, if the plane gets hijacked, act sick, don't overdo it but act like you gotta get off the plane or you'll die, the terrorists might let us get off if they believe it."

"Is that true?" Richie asked.

Richelle nodded her head, "Oddly enough, most terrorists can be very sympathetic towards ill people, remember the hijackings in '71?"

"I wasn't alive then," Richie reminded her, "Neither were you."

"Well you remember," she said, "Before they blew the planes up they got the hostages off, even carried some of them down the stairs."

"Oh yeah?" Richie asked, "Where'd you hear that from?"

"From Connor, he told me a lot about that kind of stuff," Richelle said, "Like, if somebody ever sets off a grenade, what you want to do is throw yourself on the ground as far away from it as possible, cover your head and keep your legs together."

"How come?" Richie asked.

"My guess is to avoid having to pick pieces of Shrapnel out of your ass for two weeks," she said, "Assuming you still have one after the blast."

"Life with you is never boring," Richie dryly commented as he looked over towards the window and saw they were starting to move.

* * *

><p>What Richie and Richelle might have suspected but didn't know was that after they had left, Connor had placed a very long distance call to Duncan and gave him a piece of his mind that lasted for half an hour; concluding with the fact that were it possible, Connor would crawl through the phone lines and give the last piece of his mind to Duncan in person.<p>

"And if I hear one word from either of them about you acting like the ass you are," Connor finished, "I'm going to come over there and kick it up to your teeth. Do you hear me alright over there, you stupid haggis?"

"I hear you!" Duncan replied dryly, "But I don't understand how it is every time something happens here, I'm always wrong, but somehow it seems I'm always the bad guy around here."

"Well if you're looking for an argument you better find a new topic," Connor told him.

"Connor, you've known me for over 300 years," Duncan said, "Why are you taking this girl's side?"

"Because I happen to think she's right, if what she said is true and you haven't denied it," Connor pointed out, "You _have_ been acting like an ass to them, and her especially, why is that?"

"I can't explain it because she apparently doesn't do the same stuff over there with you that she does here with me," Duncan said, "When we agreed to keep these two together, you said she'd stop all this and get off my case, well she hasn't."

"And have you gotten off of hers?" Connor replied.

Duncan ignored his cousin's last comment and said in his own defense, "They keep pointing out that they're both 18, well it's time they started acting like it instead of like a couple of spoiled brats."

"Look who's the big fat pot calling the kettle black," Connor said.

"Everything is a game to Richelle, she doesn't take anything seriously, at this rate she's going to get herself killed and take Richie down with her, I'm only looking after their best interests."

"So long as it coincides with your idea of what perfect children are," Connor retorted, "I know you've never had any before, neither have I, but it's high time you figure out that those two are going to do what _they_ want to, they're like people that way, and you can't stop it from happening, no matter how much you yell and threaten them or even if you try beating them into submission."

"This isn't going to end until one of us is dead, is it?" Duncan asked.

"Not from where I'm standing," Connor told him, "Now when that plane comes in I want you to be on your _best_ behavior, do you hear me?"

* * *

><p>Six hours later the plane landed at the Seacouver airport and Richie and his sister collected their carry-ons and followed everybody else off the plane. What they were unaware of was that another plane had landed in the same place only a few minutes before their own did. Contact was made again and an order was given to watch the two youths and wait until they returned to the antique shop to attack. The two men remained inconspicuous and watched as the two redheads walked through the labyrinth which was the airport's interior until they finally met with MacLeod who was waiting for them.<p>

"Well Richie, how was New York?" he asked.

"It was great," he said, "We had a good time."

"We won first prize at the costume contest last night," Richelle added, not that she thought MacLeod would pay any attention, and as expected, Duncan didn't say anything to her.

"So where's Tess?" Richie asked innocently.

"She's in Paris for the next two weeks seeing relatives," Duncan answered as they headed out to the Thunderbird.

"So for the next two weeks it's just going to be us three?" Richelle asked, and dryly added, "Whoopee."

When they got outside and found the car, Richie and his sister climbed over the side and sat in the back as Duncan drove them back to the antique shop. Richie and Richelle had been too busy getting reacquainted with the sights of Seacouver, and Duncan hadn't noticed either, that the black van had followed behind them all the way from the airport and parked half a block behind them when they reached the store.

"So what's for dinner?" Richelle asked as they headed in through the back door.

"It's not even 4 o' clock yet," Duncan told her.

"Alright then, what's for lunch?" she asked.

"Didn't they serve lunch on the plane?" Duncan asked Richie.

"Yeah, but we couldn't eat it because they served fish," Richie said, "And she went on the whole flight about food poisoning, got everybody nervous."

Duncan started to respond but stopped when he felt a quickening approaching. He turned and looked to the back door and told the twins, "Get upstairs."

"What is it?" Richie asked.

Duncan didn't answer, he grabbed his katana and headed towards the back, and Richie and Richelle followed after him.

They stopped behind him and saw what he saw; two men wearing black clothes and hooded masks had walked into the shop, neither had swords drawn but it was obvious they were Immortals.

"What do you want?" Duncan asked.

One of the men drew out a gun and shot MacLeod as an answer. Duncan fell back on the floor and the man shot him again; and Richie saw this and felt his bones turn to jelly and his feet became glued to the floor, he couldn't move. Richelle saw the other man take something out of his pocket and saw it was a grenade, he removed the pin and tossed it at them. She grabbed Richie and they both threw themselves on the floor over by the wall and Richie remembered what Richelle had told him; he covered his head with his arms and kept his legs together and winced as he anticipated the explosion.

Instead of the whole room blowing up, two small explosions emitted from the grenade which were just a couple of small flashes and a lot of smoke; but Richie and Richelle were both blinded for five seconds and felt their ears close up on them. The time they were incapacitated was long enough for the two men to grab them up and drag them out of the shop; but before they left, one of the men left a note on MacLeod's chest for him to find when he revived, reading simply: _You know the rules, no cops or they __both_ _die._


	2. Chapter 2

Richie didn't remember being knocked out but he knew he must've been because he woke up in an enclosed space that was all lined with metal. He could hear Richelle nearby and it sounded like she was sick. It was dark where they were and he called over to her, "Richelle?"

"Richie, is that you?" she asked, "My God, my eyes are still fogged up, I can hardly see anything."

"Richelle, what do you think's going on?" Richie asked, "Where are we?"

Richelle moaned like she was going to throw up and said, "Judging by the motion, I'd say we're in the back of a truck, a van or something…those two men, whoever they are, whatever they are…"

"They're Immortals," Richie said.

"Yes, and they kidnapped us."

"And they shot Mac!" Richie remembered.

"He'll survive," Richelle said. Even in the dark Richie could see her starting to sit up as she added, "I'm more concerned about us surviving. That was no normal hand grenade, that was a stun grenade, they're used for riot control and diversions in hostage situations. Think they must've been in the military or something, whoever they are."

"What do you think they want with us?" Richie asked.

"They shot MacLeod, but they didn't take his head, they must need him alive for something," Richelle said, "Us too, for now."

Richie didn't like the sound of that, and he wondered where they were going.

* * *

><p>Duncan returned to life choking; he opened his eyes and got his bearings straight, and he remembered what had happened. He had no idea who those two men were who came in, and they clearly didn't want to take a chance on being identified; they wore hoods and they didn't even say a word, they just shot him and…after that? What had happened after that? He looked around and saw the room was the same, but Richie and Richelle were nowhere to be found. Panic rose in him and he started to get up and it was then that he noticed the note that had been left draped on his chest. He grabbed the large white piece of paper and turned it over to read the message that had been left on it. What he read made his blood run cold:<p>

_You know the rules_

_No cops or they __both__ die_

His mind was racing, who could possibly be responsible for this? He had certainly made a lot of enemies in his life and a lot of them were still alive and probably looking for him, but he couldn't think of anyone who would resort to something like this just for a chance at his head. And why hadn't those men taken his head when he was dead? They had to be working with someone else, there had to be a third party involved, someone else who wanted his head, but why take Richie and Richelle then instead? What were the two teenagers to whoever was behind this? Too many questions, no answers and he didn't have any idea where to start looking for them. He got up and saw the black shell lying in the middle of the floor, a spent grenade, what the hell was going on?

* * *

><p>Richie and Richelle had both tried to get the doors open but they were locked; so while they waited to see where it was they were being taken, and for what reason, they tried to figure out what to do.<p>

"These guys know what they're doing," Richelle told him, "No amateurs, if we tried making a break for it right away they'd probably kill us…we'll have to wait and see what they have in mind for us."

"If it was us they wanted," Richie said, "How'd they know we'd be at the shop? We'd just gotten home."

Richelle looked at him and answered, "They must've followed us, they must've been in New York watching us…and then on the plane, they must've been on the same flight we were, but I can't figure out what it's all about."

"I guess we'll know soon enough" Richie replied.

It seemed that they'd been driving for hours and there were no windows so they couldn't see out and determine where they were going. It was hot in the truck and they were both covered in sweat and thought they'd smother to death before they ever managed to get out. They moved up against one wall and clung to each other as they waited for their fates to be determined.

A short while later they came to a sudden stop and heard the two men get out of the truck and come around to the back to get them out. The sunlight blinded them and the two men grabbed them out and had them by the throats in such a way that each knew if they tried to struggle, they'd break their necks, so they went where they were led; which was out of a back alley and into an abandoned building. The men roughly escorted them up one flight of stairs, and then another. When they were about five stories up, they were led into a dark room where they were thrown on the floor, then the lights came on.

Richie rolled over onto his back and he and Richelle both saw the men remove the hoods, revealing their faces for the first time. Richie didn't recognize either of the men and he could tell from glancing over at his sister that she hadn't either. They were both white and both looked to be somewhere in their early 30s; the first man was tall and fat and was almost completely bald except for a short patch of blonde hair near the top, and the second man was skinnier and had black hair shaved at the sides and a tattoo of a dragon on the side of his head.

"Hell must be full," Richelle groggily commented as she looked up at the second man, "The dead are walking the earth."

The man responded by kicking her across the face before jerking her to her feet. She returned the favor and knocked him in the jaw and sent him on his back. Then the fat man hit her over the back of the head and knocked her to the ground again. Richelle turned over and saw a knife pointed down at her.

"Alright," she said, putting her hands up, "So we're even for this round…now, if we're going to die, I want some answers…who the hell are you two and why are we here?"

"You'll find out in time," the thin man said as he got up and jerked her up again.

"Right before we're executed I'm sure," Richelle cynically responded.

"You wish," he told her.

"No, I think _you_ do," she said, "I think you'd enjoy killing us both, make it slow and painful, you strike me as a man who would take immense pleasure in that."

"Richelle, don't encourage him," Richie murmured to her.

"Relax Richie," she said, and added as she faced the two men, "It's obvious these two aren't the brains behind this, there's someone else pulling the strings and my guess is he wants us brought in alive and in one piece so _he_ can kill us." Now she was addressing the men, "Once again though the question is why? I don't recall ever seeing either one of you before, so I'm going to go on a limb and guess it's not for anything we have done…the key here is MacLeod, something to do with him, but what? And where is your leader?"

The thin man came up to her and opened his mouth to reply when she cut him off saying, "I know, we'll know when he gets here, in the meantime what're we supposed to do?"

"Sit down and shut up."

They both found the couch behind them and dropped on it.

"For how long?" Richelle asked, "How long are we going to be kept here?" Neither man answered her, so she tried again.

"Can we walk around here?" she asked, "Are we _allowed_ to move around here?"

The fat man answered and pointed, "Through here, that room, the kitchen, and the bathroom, but don't even think about escaping."

"Well now where would the fun be in that?" Richelle asked. They both got off the couch and she walked up to the other man and got in his face and asked him, "You got a name, jackass?"

She didn't bother waiting for him to answer, she helped herself to the wallet that was in his pocket and she walked away taking out an ID card and read it, "Donald Dunderbeck…" she looked back at the man and without a single muscle out of place indicating anything was wrong, she jumped back halfway across the room and landed beside Richie. "What are you, a butcher?" she asked, "Don't tell me, you're the one who started that story a hundred years back."

"What story?" Richie asked.

"Where the butcher put people in his sausage grinder and…" Richelle turned and looked at Richie and shook her head, "Forget it, you don't need to know."

She noticed Richie was too scared to move, so she pushed him like he was a piece of furniture and moved him towards the kitchen, "Come on, Richie, let's see if there's anything to eat in this hellhole."

When they got into the kitchen, Richelle pulled the door closed behind her, but left it open enough that she could hear the two men talking. She could only make out a few words they were saying but she did find out that the fat man was called Silas and the one who looked like a drowned rodent was called Caspian. The names didn't ring a bell with her and she wondered if MacLeod knew them. She moved away from the door and over to the cupboards and she told her brother, "Don't worry, Richie, they're not going to do anything to us, not yet anyway."

"How can you be sure of that?" he asked.

"Okay, you've been with MacLeod for a while now, have you ever been in a hostage situation where another Immortal comes looking for him and uses you as a bargaining chip?"

"A couple of times," Richie said.

"So have I," she said, "I know how these guys work, if they were going to kill us, we would be dead already, or they would've tried anyway…but they didn't, so their first priority is not to harm us, my guess is they're waiting either for their third partner to show up, or for that bloodhound MacLeod to find his way here so they can whack him."

She browsed through the cupboards over the sink and didn't find much there besides large bottles of seasonings and spices. Next she checked out the fridge and she told Richie, "By the looks of it those two must not eat much…there's hardly any food in here…and nothing we eat either…a couple dozen eggs, some peppers, a big dead fish, a pound of butter, lot of beer though…" she pushed the bottles to the sides and found a different bottle behind them, "Vodka, now they're talking my language. But we better hope we can get out of here soon or we're bound to starve to death."

Richie looked to the window behind them and pointed it out to her, "Think we could get out through there?"

"Looks easy enough," Richelle said, "But maybe that's the idea."

Richie picked up a metal meat hammer off the counter and tossed it at the window; the next thing they saw was a large set of sparks emanating from where the hammer made contact.

"They've got it booby trapped," Richelle said.

"We'd be electrocuted if we tried getting out that way," Richie said, "And if that window's like that, the others probably are too."

"Then that only leaves the front door to get out of here," Richelle said, "And I doubt they're going to take their eyes off it for long."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Richie mumbled.

Richelle looked at the contents of the icebox again and replied more to herself than to him, "You and me both", but not for the same reason.

* * *

><p>Time dragged slowly, seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours, so on and so forth. Richie and his sister kept their mouths shut for the time being and spent the time pacing around the living room as they listened to Silas and Caspian arguing about something in the next room. They sat down on the couch and looked around, trying to think of some way they could get out of there. The windows were plenty large and if they didn't open they could be broken, but neither one was taking a chance on becoming a crispy critter, as had been the case with the kitchen windows. There was a large, old grandfather clock in the corner of the room that made a nerve-wracking ticking as the pendulum swung back and forth; it was only 7:30 that night, but it felt like they'd been stuck there for an eternity already.<p>

"It's a good thing now that Tessa _did_ go to Paris," Richie said, "I hate to think what they would've done if she'd been home."

"I doubt they would've shot_ her_," Richelle told him, "Somehow that seems beneath the likes of these two, odd as that sounds."

Richie looked to the door and said, "They're not watching now, you think we could make a break for it?"

"I doubt it," she replied, "Probably got the door booby trapped as well…we've just got to stay calm and wait a while, if we panic we're dead…these two morons have to have some weak spot, the proverbial chink in the armor, we've just got to sit tight and find out what it is."

Richie looked at her and saw a familiar look cross over in her eyes. "What're you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm just wondering if maybe a little psychological warfare might be in order," she said.

"Huh?"

"These two haven't done anything except argue since we got here, they seem to be on edge and each other's nerves already; if we could make them think each is trying to set the other one up for something, maybe they'd kill each other and forget about us," she explained.

"How're you going to do that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet."

Richie looked around the room and said to his sister, "One thing I've noticed, I haven't seen one damn phone in this whole place, have you?"

"No," Richelle shook her head, "And they have to stay in contact with their leader somehow, so there must be one around here somewhere."

"If we could find it…" Richie started to say.

"Wouldn't work, Rich," she said, "We can't call the cops or even MacLeod because first of all we don't have one damn idea where the hell we are. Go look out the window, do any of those lights look familiar to you?"

He knew what she meant. "If we _are_ still in Seacouver, this must be the other side of it because I don't recognize anything out there."

"And it's too dark now to try and figure it out either," she added, "The hardest part's going to be making sure we don't crack. And that's not going to be easy, there's nothing for us to do around here, there's no TV, no radio, not even any books, and we have to stay here for God knows how long…days, weeks, who knows?"

Richelle got up and started sorting through odds and ends around the room as though she were looking for something.

"What're you looking for?" he asked as he got up to join her.

"Just seeing if maybe there's an old deck of cards in here or something," she said, "Something we could use to keep our minds occupied."

Richie helped her look but he wasn't coming up with anything either. Richelle walked up to the door that separated the living room from the next room, and also separated the two of them from those two idiots. She peered in and saw them arguing still, they didn't notice her as she walked past that door and soon came to another one. Trying the knob, she found it wasn't locked and she decided to poke her head in and see what it was. First she pushed the door open and waited incase there was a booby trap in there as well, but there were no gunshots, no bombs, no mines, nothing explosive, so she decided it might be safe.

It turned out to be what looked like an office, and clearly not one used for quite some time despite the lack of dust. There was an old desk in the middle of the room and the top of it was covered by blank sheets of paper, pens, markers, ink and stamps, and an old typewriter. Richelle flipped through the sheets of paper and found the bottom ones were cardstock; she grabbed a couple sheets of them, a pen and a pair of scissors and went back to the living room. Richie hadn't moved from the couch and she sat down beside him and started drawing cards to cut out.

"We ought to try and get a look in at the bedroom," she told him, "We might find something there."

"Like what?" Richie asked.

"I don't know, but that fat guy didn't say it was off limits," she said, "People always get careless about leaving things in their bedrooms they don't want people to find, there might be _something_ there we can use."

Richie got up from the couch and Richelle followed after propping the scissors up and open on the couch and hoped that Caspian would come in and sit down right there without looking. They opened the door to the bedroom and turned on the lights; it was a large room, there were two double beds on the opposite sides of the room, an antique couch in between the beds, one large old trunk that looked rusted shut, and a large old dresser with half of a broken mirror above it.

"Well this was no help," Richie said as they looked through the drawers and under the beds and in the closet, "These guys must've been born roughing it, there's nothing here."

"No phone, no weapons, and the window in here's been barred up from the outside," Richelle said, "I don't know Richie, I can't imagine anybody living here like this on purpose…they must've just set up a bare necessity base here of sorts, would explain why the fridge is about empty…a holding spot until they can move us, and I'll bet they're counting on doing that soon."

"Well, got anymore bright ideas?" Richie asked as he sat down on the couch.

"Not necessarily a good one, but I do have an idea on how we can have some fun while we're here," Richelle said.

"Yeah, how?"

"Get up and help me move this couch," Richelle told him.

* * *

><p>"It's been over eight hours and we haven't heard back from them yet," Caspian told Silas as they headed to the bedroom, "I'm starting to wonder if we haven't been set up for some bad joke."<p>

"You sound even dumber than usual," Silas told him, "And that's really saying something."

"Oh shut up," Caspian replied, "I'm going to bed."

He went into the bedroom, forewent turning on the light, and the next sound Silas heard was a loud crash, followed by Caspian screaming. Silas went in, found the light switch and turned them on, and saw Caspian had fallen through the lid on the old trunk and was stuck like a turtle on its back. It was then that Silas looked around the room and saw that all of the furniture had been moved, and the trunk had been put in place of his bed, and he just laughed.

"Methos ought to see you now," he said.

"Shut up and get me out of here," Caspian told him.

"A million morons in the world and I get stuck with you," Silas said as he jerked Caspian out of the hole in the trunk, "That's fate."

"That does it, I'm going to…" Caspian stopped when he saw that his bed had been moved to the other side of the room, but only the bedstead remained, the mattresses, pillows and covers were gone. He got up and stormed out of the room to find Richie and his sister and kill them, and Silas just stayed behind chuckling to himself and commenting, "They got pretty close, now if they could just make _him_ disappear like that, _then_ they'd be onto something."

By the time Silas got out to the living room, Caspian had his hands around Richelle's neck and was throttling her, but Silas grabbed Caspian by the back of his neck and jerked him back.

"Remember what the others said," Silas breathed into his ear, "We're supposed to bring them in alive and in one piece."

Richelle turned to Richie and winked at him as if to say 'See? What did I tell you?' But Richie still wasn't sure that they were going to make it out of this one alive.

* * *

><p>"Richie, will you relax?" Richelle said as she watched her brother pace around by the bedroom door, "They went to bed hours ago."<p>

"You can't be sure," Richie quietly said as he went back to join her on the couch.

"No but that rat got back all the stuff for the bed, I imagine he has to be using it for something," she said, "And that leaves us with a choice, who's going to sleep on the couch, and who takes the floor?"

"I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight," Richie told her.

"Look Richie, we're already in for a pretty crappy time, no sense in making it any worse worrying about everything," she told him.

"There's got to be a way we can get out of here," Richie said, "Or some way we can contact Mac, if we could get word to him…"

"What would he do, Richie?" Richelle asked, "Would he come rushing to our rescue?" she guffawed, "Yours maybe, he'd leave me behind to rot with these morons, you know that. He doesn't like me, he never did, he only put up with me for your benefit and that entire time he's made it no secret he hates me. And all the while he's trying to mold you into a perfect miniature him, never ask any questions, never do anything he wouldn't, just be exactly like him, and thank God despite all his attempts, he's failed at that. Become like him and that's your death sentence faster than anything, remember that, Richie. No, he wouldn't come in to save us, especially not me, and if anybody's going to leave me behind to be a human sacrifice, that'll be me, thank you very much, I'll be the one to make that decision, not him or anyone else."

"You wouldn't really do that, would you?" Richie asked.

"That'll depend," she said, "In the meantime, all we can do is sit still and wait, sooner or later these guys will screw up, you wait."

Richie laughed nervously and confided in her, "I think I'm already starting to crack."

Richelle wouldn't admit it but she was starting to feel the same way. Dead but alive, that was the best thing she could think of to describe how she felt. It wouldn't bother her so much, except for that irritating tick-tick-tick of the pendulum in the clock; she looked it and fought the urge to send her foot through the glass and stop it permanently. Instead she got up, went over to the clock, opened the glass door and stilled the pendulum, the ticking stopped for the time being.

"That's a bit of a relief," she said.

Richie nodded but didn't say anything. Richelle looked around the room and tried to think of something that would keep their minds occupied.

"I've got an idea," she said, "You ever play Battleship?"

"What?" Richie asked.

"You know, five ships, red and white, whoever sinks all the other person's ships first wins," Richelle said as she picked up a couple sheets of paper and a pencil.

"What about it?" Richie asked.

"Well it's a good way to pass the time," Richelle said as she quickly scribbled onto the two sheets. She gave Richie one and he saw it was a hand drawn graph of the game's board with the numbers, letters, and spaces for ships. "This is the poor man's version of it. Given what few resources we have to work with, we're going to have to really exercise our imaginations in the next few days to keep from cracking."

Richie looked at his sister and confessed, "I don't think I'm going to make it."

"You better, Richie," she told him, "I haven't spent my entire life looking for a family for you to lose it now. Let's look at the facts, we're collateral, somebody somewhere needs us kept alive for some reason; that's not a very comforting thought but at least we don't have to worry about dying anytime soon…okay, so we're locked in here, it could be worse, we can get up and move around, they could've locked us in a closet, or a basement, or left us in that truck and let us sweat to death. Things haven't gotten bad enough yet that there's a reason to panic, just remember, we have to wait this out, you'll just have to be patient."

"I'm not a patient person, Richelle," Richie told her.

"Well you better get patient and fast," she replied.

* * *

><p>Morning came and Richie and his sister found they were still in the same situation as last night and that it hadn't just been a nightmare. Caspian and Silas came out of the bedroom shortly after 8 o' clock, and things resumed as they had the day before; the two Immortals seemed to be biding their time and waiting for something, while Richie and Richelle tried to find something to eat, and a possible way out.<p>

"You like eggs, Richie?" Richelle asked.

"Not really, you?"

"Nope, and I got no idea what kind of fish that 20 pounder in the fridge is, so I think cooking it's out of the question too," she said as she joined him at the kitchen table, "Oh well, it won't kill us to skip a couple of meals. Of course that fat guy out there, he could really go a couple days without food and it wouldn't hurt him any."

Richie looked around at the kitchen and mentioned to his sister, "You know Richelle, the part I can't figure out is how there's only one door out of here…this doesn't look like any regular apartment, a place this size you'd think there'd be at least two doors leading in and out…and most times the back door is in the kitchen, so where is it?"

They looked around again and this time they noticed something they'd missed the other night. Over to the opposite wall was a large stack of crates piled together like bricks.

"This place isn't being used for storage," Richelle said, "It's practically empty, and I'll bet those crates are empty too, the door's probably hidden behind it."

They got up to investigate but heard the Immortals coming and sat back down just as Silas and Caspian came in. Nobody said a word to anybody, and when the two Immortals weren't looking, Richie and Richelle got up and backed out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"That has to be the other door," Richie said, "It has to be the way out."

"Right, but what if it's booby trapped too?" Richelle asked, "We'd kill ourselves for nothing."

"We've gotta try," Richie told her, "But we've gotta do it when they aren't watching."

"Well they've got to disappear sometime," Richelle said, "They have to make contact with their boss sometime and we know there's no phone in this place, so they'd have to leave to communicate."

"How can you be sure that there _is_ somebody else and these two guys aren't the brains behind all this?" Richie asked.

"The Hunch Bunch in there?" Richelle asked, and shook her head, "No, if they were that smart, they wouldn't have made this their hideout, or if they would've, they would've had it better stocked…no, I think this is just a temporary holding place for a few days, they'll be moving us soon."

"I've got another idea," Richie said, "If we can find the fuse box in this place, we can throw the breaker, that would kill the power, and that would include the electrified traps on the windows, we could bust one and get out of here, or make a break for the door."

"Right but where _is_ the fuse box?" Richelle asked, "We've been in every room in this apartment and I don't remember seeing one, it may not even be in _this_ one."

"Hmmm, I hadn't thought of that," Richie realized, "But still, it's worth a try."

"Right," Richelle agreed, "Providing we can make sure they're distracted long enough, that's going to be the hard part. One of us would have to run interference and…" she saw the look on her brother's face and could tell he wasn't pleased with the idea, "_I'll_ keep them busy, you make a run for the breaker."

"Not yet," Richie grabbed her by the collar of her T-shirt, "Let's wait and see what they do, if they _are_ going to be contacting somebody, they'd have to do it soon, and if you're right, they'll have to leave this apartment to do it."

"In the meantime," she told him, "I think we'd best not stand around looking suspicious, they'll know we're waiting for something."

"Then what're we supposed to do?" he asked, "We're freaking hostages here, we're not here on vacation."

"Tell me about it," Richelle dryly remarked, "And I just thought of something…we've figured these guys were watching us back in New York, which means they probably know about Connor, and…depending on how long they've been watching us, how much do they know about us? Or him?"

Richie felt a pins and needles sensation in the back of his neck. He hadn't thought about that, but then again what had they to hide? But then again what _about_ Connor? Would they go after him as well?

Despite their closeness in appearance, Richie and his sister were still about as different as day and night; unlike other twins they didn't have their own language and they didn't say the same things at the same time, but this time they both seemed to be sharing the same thought. Neither said anything but they both looked back to the kitchen, and both started to feel sick.


	3. Chapter 3

Duncan felt like hell. He'd barely gotten any sleep over the night, worried that he might miss something. So far he hadn't been able to figure out what the hell was going on, but he figured that whoever was behind this would at some time be making contact with him. He stayed by the phone incase the abductors called, he checked at the back and front doors constantly incase there would be anything, a note, a package, something, anything so he'd have some idea of what he was working with. But all through the night and into the early morning there had been nothing. He hadn't heard anything from anybody, and he was starting to worry that Richie and his sister were both already dead.

He'd spent the night waiting by the phone and trying to think of anybody from his past who might resort to something like this in order to get back at him. He could think of none. The only thing he could think of was how grateful he was that Tessa hadn't been there when it happened; he couldn't imagine what would've happened to her if she'd somehow been caught in the crossfire. Would the Immortals have shot her as well? Or would she be wherever Richie and Richelle were?

Duncan hadn't been aware that he'd closed his eyes but he felt them open wide when he heard the telephone ring. The sudden noise, after a night of unbearable silence, just about made him jump out of his skin. He grabbed the receiver and put it to his ear, "Hello?"

He could hear maniacal laughing on the other end, followed by a voice that he couldn't identify that asked him, "Well MacLeod, it's 10 o' clock, do you know where your children are?"

"Who are you!" he demanded to know, "What have you done with Richie?"

The person on the other end just laughed, and said, "I wouldn't worry about them, MacLeod, not _now_."

"What've you done with them?"

"Nothing, _yet_."

"Why're you doing this? If it's me you want, you tell me when and where."

"Sorry MacLeod, it's not your head I'm interested in," the man told him, "Now, I know you haven't been a _total_ idiot and gotten the police involved in this matter, of course not, even _you're_ not that stupid."

"If they're alive, let me talk to them," Duncan demanded.

"Oh, so sorry MacLeod, I'm afraid the children are all tied up right now and can't come to the phone, but do stay close by, we'll be making contact again soon."

"You sick bastard," Duncan said, "Who are you!"

All he heard was a click on the other end followed by the dial tone.

* * *

><p>"I don't know if I'm hungry or if I feel like throwing up," Richie said later that morning when the two of them returned to the kitchen, although it wasn't to attempt a prison break. Silas and Caspian were in the living room talking amongst themselves and even for not being the most observant people in the world, they had a perfect view right into the kitchen and could see what the two teenagers were doing the entire time.<p>

"I know the feeling," Richelle said as she dug around in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of vodka, "Want some?"

Richie shook his head, "I've never had the stuff."

"It's not so bad…not good either but what can you expect from potatoes?" Richelle asked as she poured herself a glass, "Now what I'm waiting for somebody to explain to me is cherry vodka…fermented cherries _and_ potatoes?" she shook her head.

Richie wasn't hearing her, instead his eyes were focused on the bottle and he was thinking back to one night a few months back. He was also thinking of all the stupid arguments that he and she had engaged in with Mac over the past few months; even at the time it seemed stupid but now that their lives were in peril it especially seemed stupid the things they had fought over.

He would never forget that nightmare of a time Tessa and Duncan decided to take them out to dinner at a fancy French restaurant. Right away that had been a mistake because Richelle didn't believe in black tie occasions so she went as she was and heavily encouraged Richie to do the same. That had been easy to live down though, but he would never forget the embarrassment of when the waiter brought the hors d'oeuvres of escargot and Richelle's response of yelling "There're snails on the plate! Hold on, I'll get them!" and using her fist, smashed the appetizers, and the plate they were on, to pieces, and had everyone else in the restaurant staring at them.

Tessa had been stunned and Richie just wanted to crawl under the table when he saw the flaming daggers Mac was staring at her. But even that had been easy to forget, but then Richelle demanded the waiter to bring her a wine list.

"You're 18," Duncan reminded her, "The law in this state says you can't drink until you're 21."

"So what?" Richelle asked, "This is a French restaurant, in France 9 year olds are drinking this stuff for breakfast, and I'm damn plenty older than a 9 year old, and more mature than one, someone _else_ at this table on the other hand…"

Richie's hands had found their way to his head and he was groaning like he had a migraine and sliding further down in his chair, hoping he'd just slip under the table completely unnoticed. He tried to drown out the argument but it only worked for a few seconds, he picked up on the larger part of the rant his sister was going through.

"Everybody knows that this idiotic age limit is just the last attempt to hang onto prohibition," Richelle added, "They couldn't stop the public from drinking, so they give the general public back that right but say to 18-20 year olds 'screw you, you are too stupid to matter and deserve the same rights as 21 year olds and up', why? We've got the same kind of money they do, do the liquor companies suddenly not want our money? No, they weren't the ones who did this, it's those stupid parental groups with an axe to grind, complaining about 'oh the teenaged drunk drivers kill so many people', well we've got 50 year old men still wrapping around lamp posts but that's somehow okay and it's the sin to end all if we have a stinking bottle of wine? And how about the fact that at 18 you can join the army, get shipped over to the Persian Gulf and be blown to bits, and you're old enough for that but you're still too young to be trusted with a beer? And what about the fact that beer has _the_ lowest amount of alcohol per serving in the way of liquor? I can understand if they said no whiskey or no vodka, but it's all or nothing when the rate of dryness is not, that makes no sense whatsoever."

Richie had managed to block out the rest of that brouhaha that followed but that first part of their dinner at the restaurant, he didn't think he'd ever forget. He still didn't know how they got through the meal without being kicked out. Many were the times he complained that his sister and her big mouth were going to get them both killed someday. Funny, now here they were with their lives in jeopardy, and she hadn't been responsible for it, somehow MacLeod had been, but he wondered if she still wouldn't get them killed for mouthing off to the two Immortals.

What a way this would be to go if they both died now. Of course, he had always thought the same thing when he was on the streets getting by as a thief, but that was then, and a lot of things had changed during the transition from point A to point B. Hell, he had even considered going back to school and proving that he could make something out of himself. He almost laughed, that was _another_ discussion he'd never forget.

* * *

><p>Richie couldn't remember how it came up but somehow Tessa and Duncan had gotten around to talking about the possibility of him going to college someday. This was a time when Richelle was in on visit from New York and she pulled her head, and a beer, out of the fridge and snorted, "College, there's four years of the best time of your life you'll never get back."<p>

"We weren't talking to you," Duncan told her.

"No, but he's my brother and I won't stand by and watch him wasting his life for nothing," Richelle said, "A lot of people go into college thinking they'll spend four years figuring out what they want to do in life, and then they get sick and drop dead before they even graduate, what did they study for? They could've spent all that time enjoying their lives before they were ever over."

Duncan wasn't convinced, "We know you're not planning to go, you think you've made something of yourself?"

"Did you ever go to college? Or even at his age?" Richelle replied, and when he didn't answer she added, "See? And how old were you when you first learned to read? Hmmm?"

"That was a long time ago," Duncan told her, "The world's changed since then."

"The world is always changing," Richelle said, "Do you see women wearing false beards as a status symbol anymore? No you don't, outside of the circus freak show." She sat on the counter and further commented as she drank her beer, "Abraham Lincoln taught himself at home, and he became president, Walt Disney only attended high school for one year, he paved the way to the biggest multi-million dollar franchise in the world. Buster Keaton only attended school one day in his whole life."

"Who?" Richie asked, the first word he'd been able to get in edgewise for 10 minutes.

"Terrific comedian from the silent era, and not a bad looker either," Richelle said, "I tell you, if séances ever worked…"

"We're getting off base here," Duncan interrupted, "As it is, the education Richie currently has doesn't open a lot of doors for him."

"Oh, and you're living the American dream running a dusty old shop full of old crap nobody wants or can afford?" Richelle asked, "Al Capone's lifestyle is more inviting than yours, prison term, poxy health and all."

* * *

><p>It was moments like that that really made Richie laugh though, even when he seemed to be mortified by the arguing. Mac really didn't get it, he didn't seem to get anything, maybe he had just lived too long to be able to connect with people anymore. When he looked at Richelle he saw some big mouthed, stupid punk from the streets, and Richie couldn't help but wonder then, exactly what the hell did Mac see when he looked at him? After all, they both had pretty much the same lives, they grew up the same way, and if he regarded Richelle as garbage, it stood to reason he really didn't have that much higher expectations for Richie either. And yet Richie couldn't believe that, he knew that Mac thought he had potential, but he saw Richelle as a lost cause; which just proved being 400 years old didn't mean he knew everything.<p>

Richelle had a good cover, she made people underestimate her. She could pretend very well that she was another dumb kid from the streets, but when they were alone together, Richie found out just how smart she was. And he was the exact opposite, academically speaking he _was_ a dumb kid from the streets but he could put on an act and for a while anyway, convince people that he was smart and that he knew things.

"We're not in this life for intelligence, Richie," she told him one night, "Seeking intelligence through education and studies, is just one of the ways we pass the time to reach our graves."

"Alright then, Buddha," he said, "What _are_ we in this life for?"

"To live it of course," she said, "We've got about a hundred years on our hands at best, and probably only 60 of it's going to be spent in good health and tolerable mobility, and almost 20 years of that's already gone, we might as well enjoy the time we have left, don't you agree?"

Those words now hit him like a bucket of ice water. Richie wanted to believe that Richelle knew what she was talking about, but he'd had his own neck on the line in situations like these before, and he could never be sure that if anything had gone wrong, he wouldn't have been dead long before now. He didn't trust the two Immortals who'd brought them here, of course he knew Richelle didn't either, but he couldn't convince himself that nothing was going to happen to them until possible contact was made with an alleged third party who may or may not have existed. The whole situation was making him very nauseous.

All of a sudden, a thought occurred to Richie and he turned to Richelle and whispered to her, "If these guys are Immortals, where're their swords? We looked through everything in that bedroom and didn't find anything."

"Either they got them with them or they got them stashed away somewhere else in this building," Richelle replied, "We're no threat to them, it makes sense they wouldn't have them out now."

"Right, but what if…" Richie was cut off when he felt Richelle pinching his arm, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Caspian and Silas coming out of the kitchen. They remained quiet until the two men disappeared into another room before they continued their conversation. "What if another Immortal would come here?" Richie asked, "They'd have to get them in a hurry."

Richelle shook her head, "They could just shoot any other Immortal and take their time to kill him, or maybe toss him out the window, five floors up, that'll keep him indisposed _and_ decomposed for a while. Besides, probably nobody knows they're here, so they wouldn't be getting any unwanted company."

"Hey!" Richie practically lunged for the window, "We can see where we are now, the sun's out."

"Yeah, and five flights up," Richelle reminded him as she walked up behind him, "A bird's eye view, only we ain't birds."

Even with his back to her Richelle could see the hope diminish in him as his shoulders slumped as he realized, "Nothing out here looks familiar, I don't think we're even still in Seacouver."

"Seacouver?" Richelle added as she got a look out the window, "I don't think we're even in the same state anymore. Looks like the jungles of Oregon to me."

"This is no time for your stupid jokes," Richie told her.

She shrugged and replied, "Maybe not, but you got a better idea?"

They heard somebody come into the room and they both spun around and saw Caspian standing in the doorway looking like a Doberman about to rip them to shreds. They immediately backed away from the window as he demanded to know what they were doing.

"I'm going to throw up, that's what I'm doing," Richelle said, "I hate heights, and you morons just _had_ to drag us up five flights…and why this floor? I'm assuming this building has more than just five floors, so why are we in this one?"

Caspian just sneered at her and responded, "I'm sure you can come up with a few ideas why."

"Incase we could deactivate that electrocution system you two got hooked up to the windows, it's too high to jump without breaking several bones," she said.

He laughed and said, "I'm surprised, you're not _as_ stupid as I'd thought."

"Hmm, if only I could say the same thing about _you_," she told him.

Richie stood between the two and he thought Caspian was going to rip her throat out. Instead he just looked at her like a cat eyeing a canary and said, "You're so idiotic I'd bet you wouldn't know how to hit me with both of us standing on opposite ends of a newspaper."

"And he calls me stupid," Richelle said to Richie, then to Caspian she said, "Let me get this straight, if I stand on one end of a newspaper and you stand on the other, I can't hit you?"

"That's right."

"You're on," Richelle said, "Next question, do you _have_ a newspaper?"

"Never mind," Caspian told her, "Get over here."

They followed him over to the doorway leading to the kitchen. Caspian scuffed two marks on the floor about eight inches apart, one four inches into the living room and the other four inches into the kitchen.

"I stand on one of these lines, you stand on the other and I can't hit you?" Richelle said, "This is going to be the easiest bet I ever won."

"What's going on in here?" Silas asked as he came into the living room.

"You're moronic friend is betting I can't hit him standing eight inches away from him," Richelle said.

"Oh for…not this again," Silas said.

"Might as well, it'll be the most fun I've had all day," Richelle commented as she stepped on the mark on the kitchen floor, "Like this?"

"No, first you turn around, then on the count of three, _then_ you try and hit me," Caspian told her.

"No problem," she said as she turned around.

On three, Caspian slammed the kitchen door shut between them and Richelle turned around and looked at it perplexedly.

Caspian chuckled and said to himself, "Now who's the dumb one around here?"

One of the upper panels in the door gave way as Richelle's fist came through and knocked him in the jaw and he fell back on the floor, with Richie and Silas standing over him and Silas laughing as he answered, "It's still you, you little psychopath."

Richelle opened the door and stepped back into the living room as Caspian got up, and Silas reminded him, "It's your own fault, you said she couldn't do it."

"How did you do that?" Richie asked as he went over to her.

"That's one of the oldest tricks in the world," Richelle told him, "Every _boob_ knows it, obviously…plus, that's cheap wood the door's made of, that's a big key in it."

"Oh man!" Richie laughed.

Richelle went over to Caspian and asked him, "Would you care to make any other wagers?"

Caspian responded by grabbing her wrist and twisting it far enough back that it about snapped and she fell on her knees and was yelling in pain.

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon when Duncan checked the doors again and this time he saw that a package <em>had<em> been left at the back door. He knew he hadn't sensed anyone around so it had to be a mortal who delivered it.

Ever since he'd gotten that phone call he hadn't left the shop, was never more than five feet away from the phone incase somebody would call again; but unfortunately, nobody did and during the time he waited he could only wonder what had become of the kids. That was when he went to the back door and saw the box sitting out there.

There was only his address at the store, no return address, nothing. It was a regular cardboard box that looked big enough to hold…no, he didn't want to think about that. He picked up the box and was relieved at how light it was, he knew that a human head weighed on average 10 pounds, and there was no way that the box could…no, he couldn't finish that thought. He put the box on the table and cut it open and lifted up the flaps, and if it were possible for Immortals to have heart attacks, he was sure he would've. The only things in the box were a small envelope with his name on it, and two sheets of paper that were almost completely covered in blood.

Duncan felt his hands shaking by now and he couldn't steady them; he picked up the envelope from the box and tore open the seal and found a note inside that read: _They bleed nicely, MacLeod, what type are they, A-positive or O?_


	4. Chapter 4

"Miserable old son of a bitch," Richelle commented as she tightened the bandage on her wrist, "I never met such a sore loser in all my life."

"Is it bad?" Richie asked.

"Na, the bleeding stopped," she said.

"Well that was a dumb thing to do," he told her.

"He started it," she insisted.

"Don't start that again," Richie said, "It didn't get us anywhere the last time."

"Well he did."

Richie rolled his eyes and shook his head, and it was then that he noticed something.

"Where'd Heckle and Jeckle go?"

Richelle looked around and also realized that Silas and Caspian were nowhere to be found.

"We couldn't get that lucky," she said.

Richie was two steps ahead of her and rushing to the kitchen to find out what was behind the crates. When she caught up with him he had managed to shove most of them to the side and revealed there was a door there; it had several bolts and chains on it and all were in place.

"What do you think this is?" Richie asked as he casually undid the first chain.

"Maybe it leads to a dungeon," Richelle guessed, "Whatever it is, looks like somebody wants to make sure somebody can't get in…or maybe out."

"Well wherever it leads to, it ain't electrified," Richie said as he got the other locks undone.

He'd just gotten the door open when they heard Caspian and Silas coming back. They closed the door and hurriedly pushed the crates back into place and all but flew out of the kitchen to avoid looking suspicious.

Just as they heard the front door open, Richie got nervous and leaned in towards Richelle and said, "You think they'll notice the crates have been moved?"

"I doubt it," Richelle replied, "But all the same a good diversion wouldn't hurt."

"Got any ideas?" he asked.

"One off the top of my head, follow my lead."

Silas and Caspian came in just in time to hear Richie and his sister having a heated argument about something.

"I say you can," Richelle said.

"And I say you can't," Richie said.

"You can!" she insisted.

Richie shook his head, "You can not."

"I say you can and I'll prove it," Richelle replied, and just as Caspian walked by she lunged at him from behind and grabbed at his neck as if she meant to rip his head off with her bare hands. Caspian let out a startled yelp as he grabbed at her and threw her off his back, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well what does it look like we're doing?" she asked, "We are trying to commit a murder."

"No kidding."

"Or rather trying to figure out _how_ one was committed, there's this case that's got the entire homicide division scratching their heads on how it was done," Richelle explained, "They've got a guy who apparently committed suicide by hanging himself, they found him swinging from the noose, and found his neck was broken in the process of course."

Something in what she'd said had caught Caspian's interest, "Why's homicide still involved in a suicide?"

"Well at the scene of the crime everything looked normal, but then they ship the body off to the coroner, and the coroner says it has to be a homicide…apparently there was something in the way that his neck was broken, that it took a few other bones with it that it shouldn't have, that don't suggest the rope broke his neck, but rather suggests that he was dead before he was ever put into the noose, that somebody crushed his neck with their bare hands."

"That's nothing new," Caspian said, "It happens all the time."

"Right," Richelle said, "Except that the coroner says that the killer had to be strong enough to pop several vertebrae out of place when he crushed the guy's neck. Then he had to be able to lift the body straight up and place him in the noose from there so it would look like he offed himself."

"And I say it can't be done," Richie said, "Nobody can lift a body straight up over their head like that."

"So it seems to me we need to find a way to settle this once and for all," Richelle said, "All we need is a rope and a dumb stiff to put in it."

Caspian didn't look amused. "Very funny."

"Well what say you, Mango Brains?" Richelle asked, "Can it be done?"

"Can what be done?" Silas asked as he reentered the room.

"Of course," Richelle gestured to him, "There's another theory at work that it is possible, but that the killer would have to be _excessively_ strong, does that fit this brick wall over here?"

Silas looked at Caspian and asked him, "What the hell's going on in here?"

The whole thing was explained a second time and now they had Silas intrigued by it as well. He thought it was possible to do, and since they didn't have anything better to do and they weren't going anywhere, they decided to try it. So Caspian got a rope, tied it into a noose, and that left the others with one question.

"Who's going to be the dummy for this trick?" Richie asked his sister.

Richelle replied in a very bad Japanese accent, "Hippopotamus no good for this trick," she pointed at Silas and repeated, "Hippopotamus!"

"Very funny," Richie said.

"Well," Richelle looked over towards Caspian, "He's about as stiff as they come."

Richelle went up behind Caspian who had just secured the noose into place and kicked him. He turned around and glared at her and demanded to know, "Did you kick me?"

"No," she replied.

Caspian turned back around and started to say it was a good thing she didn't, because if she had, but before he could finish that thought, she jumped on his back and was trying to strangle him again. He hit her in the right place and she fell off and hit the floor choking. He stood hovering over her looking ready to kill her, but before he could get a word out she said, "Well we need a dead body for this don't we?" When his murderous glare didn't change any she added, "Alright, alright, _I'll_ do it, ya big baby." She turned to Silas and said, "Now remember, Crunch, you've got to be able to lift me straight up so my neck slips through the noose."

"I don't think that'll be a problem for him," Richie murmured to her.

"Well we might as well do this right," Richelle said as she pointed to herself, "Dead body, no rigor." Then she went into a fit of choking and grabbing at her neck and rolling around on the floor before she finally slumped over like a limp rag doll, her head held clear down; her best impression of her neck having no support of it.

Silas grabbed Richelle off the floor and wrapped his hands around her ribs and started lifting her up; Richelle didn't raise her head but she looked up to see how close she actually came to the rope.

"You'll have to try higher than that," she told him, "A little more, a little more….you're not even close, are you even trying?"

Richie watched from the other end of the room and couldn't help laughing; he covered his mouth and tried to muffle out his snorts but with little success. Silas wasn't getting anywhere and Caspian came in to help, they each took part of her and lifted her up higher but it still wasn't enough to hang her. Then, without warning, somebody lost their grip and Richelle landed on Silas's shoulders; she dug her feet in to his ribs to try and balance herself. She looked down at Silas and said, "Well, tubby, it doesn't look like the murderer was anybody of your stature."

"Oh shut up," Silas said as he tilted back and threw her off.

Richie helped her up and commented, "To pull that off the killer would have to be about seven feet tall, a regular giant."

"The Kurgan."

"What?" Richie asked.

"To be that tall he'd have to be a regular freak," Richelle said, and added after poking Richie to get his attention, "They'd about have to be built like the Kurgan to do that, of course if it were him, he wouldn't have bothered making it look like a suicide, he'd skewer the poor bastard for all he was worth and let everybody see the gore. But then the question remains, who alive today is seven feet tall and running around crushing people's necks with his bare hands?"

Richie poked Richelle and said into her ear, "Just what case is that anyway? I never heard about anything like that."

Richelle looked back to make sure Silas and Caspian weren't within earshot and she told him, "There isn't any, I just made it up." She saw the deer-in-headlights look on his face and she added, "Well, it fooled them, didn't it? They bought it, didn't they?"

Richie looked like he was going to fall over and faint. "You are going to get us killed one of these days!"

"Well maybe not today," she responded.

"How did you ever come up with that crazy story?" Richie asked.

"Oh, off of TV," she told her brother, "I didn't figure these guys would make the connection."

"I don't believe you," he said.

"You asked," she reminded him, "You didn't have anything."

"I suppose not," Richie replied, "But still…"

"Come on, Richie, let's see if we can find something in the kitchen we can eat, I'm hungry," Richelle said as she dragged him into the kitchen.

When they got in, the first thing they noticed was that there were a couple of bags on the table, and poking out through the top were a loaf of bread and a head of lettuce.

"They got more groceries," Richelle said as they went to the table.

"Good, now we can eat," Richie said.

"It also means we're going to be here longer than was originally intended," Richelle told him, "Nobody buys more food when they're planning to clear out soon. This can't be good, but at least we won't starve to death, let's see what they got this time."

It took them about fifteen seconds to find the contents consisted of a box of crackers, a few large tomatoes, elephant garlic, a bottle of oil, and one large package wrapped in butcher paper. Richie pulled back the top flap and they saw two red steaks with little fat and gristle on them.

"These," Richelle said as she took the steaks and went over to the frying pan, "Will be the first thing to go." Her hands were shaking so much she about couldn't hold onto the steaks, and Richie knew he was just as bad as she was; neither had eaten in over 24 hours, aside from times when he was sick, this was the longest he'd ever gone without food. He wasn't treated well in foster care but at least he had been fed every day.

He had to admit, this current situation he was in was not as bad as the other times he'd been in the crossfire between Immortals, but he wished they could figure a way to get the hell out of there, and soon. If only they could get access to the back door without Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum getting in the way, and they could find out where it led to. Any place had to be better than here.

* * *

><p>They got their chance later that night. Sometime during the afternoon they'd wandered into the bedroom and decided to get some use out of the beds since they'd had to spend the night on the floor. When they woke up, it had already gotten dark out. There were no other clocks in the apartment aside from the grandfather clock they'd stopped the night before; so they didn't have any idea what time it was, but they were hungry again so they figured it must be around 6 or 7 o' clock.<p>

One of the first things they noticed as they entered the kitchen was that Silas was nowhere to be found; it was just Caspian sitting at the table and he seemed to be talking to himself about something. On the stove there was a teakettle heating up and nearing the whistling point.

"Where's the fat one?" Richelle asked.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" was his response.

"Not in particular," she answered, "Just curious."

They headed over to the fridge and helped themselves to a couple of beers. Caspian had his back to them and he didn't seem to be paying any attention to what they were doing. Neither spoke but each wondered if perhaps now would be the time to try and make a break for it.

The teakettle started whistling and they froze, thinking he would get up for it, but he stayed where it was and let the noise become unbearable.

"Kill the damn thing already!" Richelle told Richie, who dashed over to the stove to turn it off.

"This yours?" he asked.

Caspian's answer didn't involve any words, just a grunt confirming it. Richelle took the kettle from her brother and said, "You got a cup over there?" as they both approached him from behind.

"Yeah, give it to me."

"You got it," Richelle said as she poured the hot water on his arm. Caspian yelped and threw back his chair and jumped to his feet, just in time for Richelle to brain him with the scalding hot kettle; hitting him hard enough to momentarily knock him unconscious.

"Come on Richie, let's get the hell out of here!"

They scrambled to the back of the room, shoved the crates aside and let them scatter to the floor; Richie jerked the door open and they found it led to a stairwell leading down, and they took off running. It was dark and they could hardly see where they were going but they figured they were finally going to get out of the building. They got down to the fourth floor and turned the corner when they came to a sudden stop and Richelle let out a startled gasp: Silas was standing just a few steps blow them, looking at them with eyes full of murder.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, Caspian saw Silas coming up the stairs lugging the two bodies of Richie and Richelle before finally dropped them in the middle of the kitchen floor. Both were unconscious and had dark marks on their necks in the shape of large hands and fingerprints.<p>

"How far did they get?" Caspian asked.

"Only down one floor," Silas answered, "But I doubt they'll try it again after this."

Richie started coughing and choking and Richelle's hands immediately went to her throat as if she was trying to pry somebody else's hands off of it. They opened their eyes and started to get up when they saw the two Immortals standing over them.

"Well?" Caspian asked.

"Well plan A didn't do much good," Richelle said, "No matter, I can think of better. I usually do."

Caspian growled and his hands seemed to take on a life of their own as they planned to strangle her; but Silas grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.

"If I was you, frazzle top, I'd be worried," Richelle said, "This is your own fault of course, I have a tendency to go stir crazy when enclosed in certain spaces for extended periods of time. There's really no telling what I'll do, but mark my words one way or another I'm going to find a way to bust out of this place. I'm halfway there already, bet you didn't know that there was a fifth person in this apartment right this moment."

"What?"

Silas and Caspian glanced at each other, and Richie wasn't sure that they bought it; of course they had to know there were no Immortals there, but what about mortals? Caspian grabbed Richelle by most of her shirt and demanded to know, "Where is he?"

"He's right here on this very floor," Richelle said, "In this very kitchen in fact." She turned around and said to the thin air behind her, "Well say hello, Harvey." And then she burst out laughing, as did Richie, albeit nervously, and so did Silas. Caspian looked around at the others, then back at her and announced, "Shut up!" and shoved Richelle back onto the floor.

"Face it, dragon puss," Richelle said from where she sat, "You don't have any choice in the matter, remember? You were given direct orders that my brother and I were to be brought in and I quote 'alive and in one piece'."

"He didn't say unharmed," he reminded her.

"Maybe not, but somehow I think whoever your leader is, he's expecting us to come in with as little damage as is possible. And speaking of which, who is the head monkey around here that you two baboons answer to? Oh wait, don't tell me, we'll find out when we're handed over to him, of course."

Caspian came up on her to strangle her again but she put her hands up and said, "This isn't my fault, we didn't ask to come here, you know. And I can understand we have to be kept here until a later time, but we better get moved out of this joint soon, my brother's already about to crack." She nodded her head over to Richie, "Just look at him, does that look normal to you? This boy ain't been right since the day I met him, watch this." Richelle turned towards Richie and let out a long, deranged howl and Richie just stood there looking like a corpse, completely unfazed by her screaming right in his face.

"You see?" she said, "Nothing, he's about ready to crack, isn't that right, Richie?"

Richie made some low grumble of agreement as he started to come around again.

"That's what I thought," Richelle said, then quickly added, "BOO!"

Richie jumped and let out a startled yelp.

"That's better," Richelle commented.

* * *

><p>"So we can figure they've got a phone on one of the lower floors," Richelle told Richie later that night as the two whispered so as not to wake up the two Immortals in the next room, "Probably on the floor right below us."<p>

"What, you think we could make a break for it this time?" Richie asked.

"Doubtful, now that they know we know about that back door, they've probably got it booby trapped too, but I _would_ like to find out how they're communicating with their partner. Maybe that way we could figure out some way to get out of here without getting fricasseed."

"Yeah, but how?"

"I don't know."

They sat side by side in the living room for a while, not saying a word, and trying to think of some way they could escape. Richie looked down at the floor and got an idea.

"If there are any loose floorboards around here, maybe we could work it loose, and from there managed to get a few others out, and we could slip down to the fourth floor, and if there _is_ a phone down there, we could call for help," he told her.

"Or we could probably make our getaway from there," Richelle thought, "They can't have _every_ floor rigged up. Of course now the thing to do is _find_ a loose floorboard."

"Well, we don't have anything better to do," Richie said, "We just have to be quiet."

Richelle rolled her eyes but didn't say anything; they spent the next half hour crawling around on the floor checking each and every floorboard to see if any might be close to giving way. Unfortunately all the boards seemed to be firmly set in place and it didn't appear they'd be going anywhere anytime soon. In any case, Richie knew that it was unlikely they'd find any tools lying around they could pry the boards up with, because Silas and Caspian would've already taken into consideration the fact that anything sharp or pointy could be used against them; so no doubt they would've gotten rid of any tools they had, or just hidden them like they had their swords as well. Richie was ready to give up and he turned around to ask Richelle if she had had any better luck, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Richelle, where'd you go?"

"Over here," he heard in a whisper. But when he turned to where the voice was coming from, the only thing he could see was the couch, and he was worried he was starting to crack.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

He was relieved when he saw Richelle sliding out from under the couch.

"How did you fit under there?" he asked.

"It wasn't easy," she answered.

"Did you find any loose boards?" he asked.

Richelle shook her head, and he saw she was holding something; under the couch she'd found an old book that was missing its front cover and the first few pages.

"At least we'll have something to keep our minds occupied for a few hours while we wait for the next move to be made," she said.

Richie hated to admit it but it looked like they didn't have any choice but to stay still and wait it out. Surrendering to this realization, he sat down beside her on the floor and asked her, "What's it about?"

"According to the back, it's about this guy named Anthony Rogers who gets frozen for 400 years and wakes up in the 25th century," she explained, "Not the kind of stuff I'd usually go for, but beggars can't be choosers. This thing looks like it's been tucked under the couch for years, no surprise, Crunch and Brunch in there don't strike me as being the literary type."

"I'd say that's a safe bet," Richie said, "But I thought his name was Buck Rogers."

"Evidently not in the beginning," Richelle told him, "Go figure. You know, Richie, it seems to me that we've been missing the obvious in this whole mess."

"What's that?" he asked.

"We could probably figure a way out of here if we killed those two monkeys and had room to work," she said, "Even just temporarily, and stabbing them is probably just as good as any other method we could try, and you can note they have a kitchen full of sharp little knives."

"Sure, but how would you sneak up on them?" Richie asked, "If we tried that now, trying to creep into that bedroom, I have no doubt they'd know we were coming."

"That is certainly true, but the fact remains that opportunity is there, all we'd have to do is wait until they're not expecting anything and then shank them. All we'd need is a couple of minutes, and then while they're dead on the floor, we could make a break for it."

"Yeah but don't forget," Richie said, "If it was that easy, we wouldn't need other Immortals to get rid of guys like this. You said it yourself, these guys aren't amateurs, they know what they're doing."

"Probably too smart to get caught," she agreed, "But you know, I'd like to know what MacLeod's up to right now. If they killed him, they wouldn't have any use for keeping us around or alive. So he's still out there somewhere, the question is doing what?"

"And what about Tessa?" Richie asked.

"What about her?"

"She's going to call and she's going to ask how we're doing, what the hell is Mac going to tell her?"

"I can guess," Richelle responded, "Probably the same thing he'll tell Connor when he calls, if he hasn't already. MacLeod can't ever let on that he's over his head and needs help, so he'll probably tell everybody that we're just fine and we're currently out, which if you think about it, is a very sick form of irony, we're out and we can't get back home, to either one. Our only hope would be if Connor decided to pay him a surprise visit, then he could get to the bottom of everything. Though that still doesn't do us much good because probably neither of them knows who these morons are."

"I wonder," Richie said, and he started to wonder what the odds _were_ that Connor might hop a plane heading out to Seacouver soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Neither knew when but eventually both Richie and Richelle fell asleep, the next morning Richie woke up and saw it was still dark out but didn't know what time it was because his genius sister had stopped the clock two nights ago. Richie looked over to the other side of the living room and saw she was still asleep; Richie went over to wake her up and when he got close to her, he became worried because it didn't look like she was breathing. He dropped down beside her and shook her repeatedly until she finally opened her eyes.

"What is it, Richie?" she asked tiredly.

"You scared the hell out of me," he told her, "I thought you were dead."

"Well what'd you wake me up for?" she asked.

"It's morning."

Richelle looked up and over to the windows and saw that although there wasn't any sun, it was somewhat lighter out than it had been last night.

"You think those two are still asleep?" Richie asked.

"Doubt it," she replied as she looked down to the street, "Besides, we've already gone over our options and they're non-existent currently."

She turned away from the window and Richie walked up to her and asked her, "Well then, what're we going to do today?"

Richelle sniffed and said, "I don't know about us, but you need a shower."

"Me?" he asked, "You're no daisy yourself."

"I should hope not," Richelle replied as she pushed him towards the bathroom, "Now get in there and take a shower!"

"And what about you?" he asked as they both entered the bathroom.

She shrugged and answered, "I'll stand guard, I'm not putting _anything_ past those two boobs."

Richelle watched the door as Richie got undressed and pulled the curtain shut behind him. It wasn't that Richelle was really expecting the two monkeys to try anything, but she believed in taking no chances. She heard the water start and when she was sure Richie wasn't watching her, she lifted up her shirt and examined a small dry patch of skin. She looked at herself in the mirror and stuck her tongue out; it looked normal but it felt like a sponge or a wad of cotton, she couldn't get enough to drink these days.

While Richie was in the shower, Richelle removed her shirt and did a simple scrub down at the sink, just enough to get off the obvious grime and freshen up a bit, then redressed. So far their living conditions weren't too unbearable but she had a good idea that if they didn't get out of there soon, they were both going to die, or at least she would. Of this latter thought she felt most certain.

* * *

><p>Time passed slowly and with every passing hour, both Richie and Richelle worried that they weren't going to last long enough to get out of there. But somehow they made it through two more days in that apartment with those people before something changed it all.<p>

It was after 10 o' clock when Silas came in the back door and told Caspian, "The fog's lifted, they're on the move, let's go."

They went in the living room, turned on the lights and saw Richie and Richelle both sprawled out on the floor asleep; and they were rudely awakened when the two Immortals started yelling at them and jerking them to their feet.

"What's going on?" Richie asked.

Richelle yawned and got her eyes halfway open as she guessed, "I think we're finally being moved, about damn time."

"Shut up!" Caspian told her.

They were dragged out of the apartment, down the five flights of stairs, and out of the building, but not put in the back of the van again; instead they were led around the corner to a black car, and they were told to get in the back.

"Forget it," Richelle said, defiant right to the very end, "We're not going anywhere with you."

"Oh yes you are," Caspian told her.

"No we're not," she insisted.

Caspian drew a gun out of the waistband of his pants and thrust the muzzle of it into Richelle's mouth till she gagged on it. She choked and pushed back from him.

"Well?" he said.

"Well," she mocked him, "There goes my gag reflex."

"And what've you to say now?"

Richelle forced a laugh and said, "That tastes good like a 38 should." When Caspian moved towards her she hurriedly added, "Alright, alright, we'll go, come on, Richie. Just one question, where _are_ we going?"

"To the airport," Caspian explained as he got behind the wheel and started the car.

"The airport?" the twins repeated.

Richelle leaned over and tapped Caspian on the head and told him, "This better be a local flight, we don't have a passport."

"Shut up!"

"Alright!"

* * *

><p>They never knew where they were or what plane they got on or where they were going; all they did know was that when they finally landed, neither had been so happy to be on solid ground.<p>

"That was horrible," Richie groaned as they managed to get away from the others for a minute.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Richelle added as she closed her eyes and placed her hand on her forehead, "That was the worst flight I've ever had the misfortune of being on."

Richie tensed when he saw Silas and Caspian come around the corner and join them.

"Where're we going now?" Richelle asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Caspian told her.

"I've been getting that answer all week," she said, and swallowed as if she was trying not to throw up, "I swear, if you keep jerking us around like this, I'm going to find _some_ way to hurt you."

"Oh shut up," he told her.

"You shut up, or I'll beat you to death with my shoe," she replied.

"Get in the car!" he said as he all but threw her towards it.

"Alright already, we're going!" she put her hands up in surrender, "Come on, Richie."

Richie followed her into the back of the car but grabbed her by the arm to get her attention and murmured into her ear, "How do we know these guys ain't taking us out to kill us?"

"Oh please, Richie, if they were going to do that, they would've done it long before now," she told him, "Will you just relax?"

"Who could relax?" he demanded to know.

"Well…" she didn't finish her thought because it was then that they were joined by the two Immortals who got in the front, and drove off for God knew where.

* * *

><p>Richie never would've thought he could fall asleep, but he must've because he awoke when the car jerked to a sudden stop and he hit the back of the front seat. Richelle had also fallen asleep and was leaning on him, and when the car halted she also got thrown forward and about landed on the floor.<p>

"What the hell was that?" Richelle asked.

"We're here, get out," Caspian told them.

"Oh goodie, we're here," Richelle dryly grumbled as in the dark, she fumbled for the door handle, "Only _where is here_?"

They both fell out as the door opened and in the dark they were able to make out a house up ahead; they couldn't see much of it but they could tell that it was three stories tall and looked huge.

"Get moving," Caspian said as he grabbed Richelle with one hand wrapped around her throat.

"Not this again," she complained as they walked up to the house, "Don't you ever learn any new tricks?"

"No."

"Ha!" she humorlessly laughed, "You sound like MacLeod."

"Shut up," Caspian warned her.

There weren't any lights on in the house and no cars anywhere on the property. Richelle tried looking over to Richie who was behind her and in much the same position as she was, and she commented, "I wonder if Count Orlock's home for the evening."

They got up to the porch, the door was opened, and before any lights were on, Silas and Caspian both grabbed Richelle, lifted her off her feet and threw her into the darkened room. She let out a yell as she flew in and hit the floor, and a second later Richie joined her; she rolled over onto her back moaning, and feeling her back pocket, said to them in an obnoxious voice, "You busted my yo-yo!" She continued groaning and saw Richie doing likewise, and trying to get up.

"How're you, Richie?" she asked.

Richie's top lip drew back in a curl as he let out a particularly painful groan and said, "I think they knocked my ribs loose."

The lights came on and the twins shielded their eyes and groaned at the sudden brightness. When they were able to see again, they were surprised by the new scenery.

"Oh boy," was all Richelle could say.

This house looked like somebody was living in it, and planning on long term at that; it was extravagantly furnished with things neither twin knew what time era or country they came from, but they knew it had all been plenty expensive. Richelle leaned in to Richie and murmured to him, "These two are obviously _not_ the permanent inhabitants of this place." And that was when it hit her. Forgetting to even be worried about her life, she walked up to Caspian and Silas and said, "So this is where the puppet master reigns…so where is he? When do we get to meet the man behind the curtain pulling the strings?"

"They'll be along soon enough," Silas answered.

Richelle's eyes widened and she turned to face Richie, "Did you hear that, Richie? THEY." She turned back to the two Immortals and asked, "Exactly how many members _are_ there in this Immortal freak show? Never mind, I'll wait and find out," and she moved over to the couch to sit down.

"Not there," Caspian told her.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Upstairs."

Richie and his sister looked at each other and he said, "They keep dungeons _upstairs_ now?"

Richelle shrugged and they reluctantly went with the Immortals up to the second floor. Claustrophobia was not going to be a problem in this place; the hallway that separated the second floor from the stairs leading to the third, was as large and spread out, as he guessed an empty subway station would be.

"Now what?" Richelle asked and pointed to the stairs, "Up to the roof?"

"In there," Caspian pointed to a door behind them.

She looked to Richie and neither had any idea what was behind the door but they knew there wasn't any backing out of this. They went across the hall to the door and headed in. Richie found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. They didn't get it, the room looked like an ordinary bedroom: there was a large bed in the middle of the room, two large chests of drawers, a table and some chairs, and a couple of pipes that ran from two holes in the floor clear up to the ceiling.

"Why here?" Richie asked, "Why this room?"

"Probably easier to lock us in," his sister suggested, "I'm getting tired of this whole game, first we're locked up in one place in one town for a week, now we're shipped out here, and where next? Why the hell don't you make up your mind?" It was then that something caught the corner of her eye and she saw something on top of the dresser; it was an old typewriter shut up in its case. It was plenty heavy, so she picked it up and went over to Caspian and when he started to speak she cut him off by dropping it on his foot. Caspian groaned momentarily, then retaliated by knocking her to the floor; Richie jumped in and lunged at him, yelling, "Hey you can't do that to her!" but at the last minute Silas snagged him back and about broke his neck.

* * *

><p>"I still say we made a mistake."<p>

The front door opened and in stepped Silas and Caspian's other two brothers, Methos and Kronos.

"Oh will you quit worrying?" Kronos said, "I've been listening to this all week and I'm sick of it."

"I can't help it, I've got a bad feeling about this," Methos told him.

"Oh here we go again."

"We should've been the first two on this, we shouldn't have left it to Caspian and Silas."

"Your faith in your own brothers is very underwhelming, you know that?" Kronos asked.

"Alright," Methos said, "They got here hours before we did, where _are_ they?"

It was then that Kronos realized what his brother was hinting at; there hadn't been any sign when they came up that anybody was in the house, and they couldn't feel the presence of their brothers anywhere. They looked at one another as if they were considering their options, then, reaching the same conclusion, they headed upstairs to see if they could find out what was going on. When they got to the second floor, they realized that their brothers still weren't anywhere close, but they saw light pouring out through the crack under one door over on the left and they decided to investigate.

The door was unlocked so they went in, and when they saw what had happened, neither could hide the shock; there was a boy handcuffed to one of the pipes, he had a small bruise on his face from where he had obviously been struck, and he was crouched on the floor and somehow had fallen asleep.

"Richie Ryan," Methos said as he went over to the boy.

Richie opened his eyes and tried to move back when he saw the two new Immortals.

"Richie, where's your sister?" Methos asked.

Richie was too shocked to speak, with his one free hand he pointed over to the bed. Kronos went over to it and saw a body laying crumpled on the floor hidden behind it. He pulled the bed back and got a better look at it. The body was rolled over face down and curled up in an almost fetal position. Kronos turned the body over and both he and Methos were surprised by what they saw; Richelle was a mess of blood and bruises and she seemed just about unconscious, except for the small moans escaping her.

"What the hell's been going on in this house?" Methos wanted to know as he dug a pair of keys out of a dresser drawer and unlocked the handcuffs Richie was in.

Richelle felt a hand on her and forced her eyes open and saw the man standing over her.

"Well, the puppet master reveals himself at last," she quietly said, "I suppose you want a turn now too."

At the last word, Richelle moaned and slumped forward; Kronos grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. Methos finally got Richie out of the cuff and pulled him away from the wall and took him over to his sister.

"Richelle Ryan?"

Richelle opened her eyes again and saw the second man.

"Richelle Ryan, I'm…"

"Spare me," she cut him off, "We've already been acquainted with your two friends, Silas and Caspian, and we know you guys are older than dirt so don't try any of that current alias formality crap with us, who are you really? And why are we here? I've been waiting around all week to find this out and I'll be damned if I'm not going to get answers now."

Methos was momentarily taken aback by this but he quickly recovered, saying only, "You're smart."

"I'm the best," she replied.

"And what happened to you?" he asked.

"A steamroller with your friends' names on it," she answered, "Now, you already know who we are, obviously, or you wouldn't have kidnapped us in the first place, now who the hell are you?"

"How much do you know about Immortals?" Kronos asked her.

"I know plenty," she said, "I know if I find something sharp and put a little elbow grease into it your head's going to be rolling around on the floor like a bowling ball and we're going to have one hell of an electrical surge, now names."

"She's nothing if not persistent," Methos said to his brother, and then to Richelle he said, "You'll find out eventually anyway, my name is Methos, and this is my brother Kronos, and the two you already met are our other brothers."

"Brothers?" Richie and Richelle both asked.

"Oh boy you must've had one ugly mother," Richelle said, "You guys don't even look anything alike."

"It's a long story," Methos explained, "Now I know what's been going on the last few days hasn't been easy for either of you but can somebody explain what's gone on here tonight?"

"It's very simple," Richelle said, "They moved us out of that apartment, we got on a plane, we flew to wherever the hell this is, we came here, they brought us up to this room, next thing I know your brothers are trying to beat me into the carpet, Richie tries to pull him off of me, and they snag him back and tie him to the wall so the only thing he can do is watch me get beaten into a pulp."

Methos and Kronos looked at each other and didn't say anything but they seemed to come to a mutual agreement. Methos took a step towards her and she looked like she was about to attack.

"Richelle, I am sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen," he told her.

"Yeah well you'll understand if I don't accept your apology," she took a step away from him and over to Kronos, "And you, Puppet Master," she said as she poked him in the stomach repeatedly, "I have been subjected to some of the weirdest treatment in this past week than I have in my whole life. I don't mind MacLeod being shot full of holes, and I don't mind being tossed in airplanes and flown out to God knows where, but I _do_ mind being blinded and maced until I'm sick as a dog, starved half to death, shut away from the entire outside world, used as bait in some kind of conspiracy and _nobody_ tells me one damn word of what's going on. Now we've already established that the key here is MacLeod, all this that's going on has to do with him somehow, but _how_? And _why_?"

"It's a long story," Methos told her.

She glared at him like she was ready to kill him, instead she just said with a scoff, "Well we've got _plenty_ of time, so start talking."

"We will," Methos turned her towards the light and got a better look at the bruise on her eye, "But I think first we better examine you and make sure you didn't sustain any serious injuries."

Richelle didn't say anything but something changed in her eyes and she glared at him untrustingly.

"It's alright, he's a doctor," Kronos told her, "At least that's what he said when he had me strip."

"Ignore him," Methos said, "He just likes being obnoxious."

Richelle took a couple of steps over towards him but her whole body swayed and she about hit the floor. They grabbed her and started to pull her up; Kronos' hand brushed over the hair on the side of her head and he saw something.

"Methos, look at this."

He pushed the hair back and Methos saw what he did, just behind her temple were three unusual blackish blue marks.

"What do these look like?" Kronos asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"They look like rings," Methos said.

"That's right," Richelle told them, "He had three of them on one hand."

"Who?" Methos asked.

"That moron Caspian, who else?" she asked, then she grabbed Kronos' right hand and used his fingers for a visual aid as she said, "One with a skull on it," and curled his index finger, "One with a dragon's head on it," and likewise curled down his little finger, "And one with a plain band on it," and curled the one beside it.

"He did all this," Methos said as he pointed to her bruises, feeling some relief to know that Silas hadn't been involved in the matter.

Richelle slightly nodded and told him, "He got in a few good shots at me, and vice versa, if you guys didn't have such a fast recovery rate, I would've left a _very_ lasting impression on him."

Kronos snorted and replied, "Of that, I have no doubt."

Richelle looked at Methos through her one good eye and said, "You said something about an examination, where?"

"In the bathroom," he answered, "Easier to clean up the blood in there."

That plan however, met with a problem when Richie blocked the entranceway to the bathroom.

"Cool it, Rich," Richelle told him, "It's alright."

And yet, Richie wasn't sure if he believed that; she didn't say anything but she looked like she had a feeling of being an animal led to the slaughter. All the same, Richie didn't say anything but reluctantly moved out of the way and let them pass as they took Richelle into the bathroom, but he stayed close by incase anything happened.

* * *

><p>In the bathroom and under its brighter lights, the two Immortals got a better look at Richelle; and during the process, Kronos found the makeshift bandage on her wrist and untied it, revealing a cut that was starting to turn green. Methos got a black bottle out of the medicine cabinet and poured peroxide over it. Richelle looked down at it as if she were drunk and commented, "And watch the blood foam white like rabies."<p>

"Let me guess," Methos said sarcastically, "You were a poet in a previous life."

"I doubt it," she said.

"Nice sized cut, where'd you get it?" Kronos asked.

"I hit something," she answered.

Kronos could tell that Methos didn't believe that, and he wasn't sure he did either.

"Now something I don't get," Methos told Richelle as he examined the bruises on her face, "Why is it you look like raw meat and your brother hardly has a mark on him?"

"Because they didn't beat the crap out of _him_," she answered.

"Yes, but why didn't they?" Methos asked, "Why is it you getting beaten up instead of him?"

"Because I wouldn't let them," Richelle said.

"What do you mean? Wouldn't let them what?"

"It's all very simple so even you should understand that," Richelle told him, "Anything went wrong, I wouldn't let them beat on Richie so I took it all."

"And why would you do something stupid like that?" Kronos asked her.

She turned back and looked at him through the one eye she had that wasn't swollen, "He's my brother, I need further reasoning than that?"

Kronos ignored her and instead looked over to Methos and said, "Well doctor, what's your diagnosis?"

"It's mainly superficial, nothing permanent but it will hurt like hell for a few days, we'll get some ice on the worst parts and the swelling should go down soon," he answered, then to Richelle he asked, "What about your brother?"

"You can _try_ examining him, but he ain't gonna take _his_ clothes off for you," she smugly replied, "Besides, I told you, I took all the beatings."

"How many were there?"

"A few."

"I've seen what my brother can do, that said, you had a narrow escape," Methos said.

"Orders," Richelle guessed, "Somebody ordered us brought in alive, one of you two I believe…but you still haven't answered the question as to why this has happened."

"I think that'd better wait until tomorrow," he told her, "But I have a question for you, _where_ did Silas and Caspian go when they got done here?"

"Hell if I know," she said, "For all we knew, they were downstairs, or upstairs, or somewhere close by."

Methos didn't say anything for a minute, then he disregarded what he was thinking of, and just said to her, "It's late, we'll get some ice put on these bruises and then figure out where we're going to put you two for the night."

"Any place will be an improvement," she said as she picked up her shirt from the sink's counter, "I wouldn't think you could do worse than the floor."

When she got dressed, they left the bathroom, found Richie still in the bedroom, and Methos and Kronos led them both back down the stairs and into the kitchen; once there, Methos got some ice out of the freezer, folded it up in a rag for a makeshift ice pack and had Richelle hold it on her bruised eye.

"Now hold it on there until you go to bed," he told her.

"Alright," she groggily replied.

Richie sat down at the table and caught a glimpse through one eye, of Kronos disappearing out the back door.

"Where's he going?" he asked.

Methos looked to the door and answered, "Out to wait for Silas and Caspian, they're nowhere in the house, they'll be back soon."

"Oh goody," Richelle sarcastically commented, "A group beating, just what we were waiting for."

"Believe it or not, Richelle," Methos told her, "What happened tonight wasn't our intention, in fact hardly anything that's happened in this past week was…the original plan was for them to keep you at that apartment for a day or two at the most."

"So what happened?" Richie asked.

"Fog came in, neither of us could make the trip out here until it cleared," Methos answered.

"Why? Where are we anyway?" Richie asked.

"South side of Seacouver," Methos answered.

Richie and Richelle looked at each other in disbelief, then back to Methos and Richelle asked, "Well then where the hell _were_ we?"

"A small dead end city on the edge of Nevada," Methos answered, "We wanted to make sure MacLeod couldn't pick up the scent like the bloodhound he is."

"I don't get it," Richie said.

"That part will take further explaining," Methos said, "And it's too late in the night for that."

Methos reached into his pocket and took out a small white bottle; twisting the lid off he poured out several white pills and placed them on the table in front of Richelle and told her, "You'd be better off taking some of those before you go to sleep, it'll do something for the pain."

Richelle hovered over the pills and looked at them like she was examining them; Richie did the same and asked, "What are they?"

"Acetaminophen," Methos answered, "If she takes two now, they'll need about an hour to kick in and she should get through the night in a minimal amount of pain. It's the only thing she _can_ take, anything else would risk complications with the blood."

Richelle continued to glare down at the pills as if she had no idea what they were and had never seen them before. Both Richie and Methos noted this and looked at her, waiting for her to give some indication as to what was the problem. Finally, she looked up at Methos and asked him, "Since when do Immortals carry around pain pills?"

Richie started to catch on to what she was saying but before he could fully figure it out, Richelle added in an accusing manner, "You _knew_ your brother was going to beat the hell out of me, didn't you?"

Before Methos could say anything, she flung herself out of the chair and at him and they both hit the kitchen wall and slid down, Methos with Richelle's hands around his neck trying to strangle him to death. Richie got up and went over to pull her off of him, telling her to calm down. He finally got her off of Methos, and wrapped one arm around her neck and with his free hand pulled her into a half nelson so she couldn't get away.

"Nice work, kid," Methos said as he got up, "You're quick."

"I've had experience," Richie said by way of explanation and shrugged as he added, "This past week with your brothers has given me _lots_ of experience in things."

"So noted," Methos replied as he walked over to them, and looking at Richelle he told her, "I didn't know what Caspian was going to do, but I've known him for over 3,000 years so I could guess…_any_ time mortals get involved, such measures for mortals' well being have to be taken into consideration."

Richie nodded as if in agreement. Finally he let go of Richelle and she fell against the table, the fight currently gone from her. Richie took this opportunity, remembering when they shared a hospital room earlier that year, to explain to Methos, "She's not big on taking pills."

"Who is?" Methos asked.

Richelle pulled her head up and, straining to keep her eyes open, said, "I want to go to sleep."

"That might be a good idea," Methos told them, "Come on."

Richie helped Richelle up and they headed back to the living room and they went over to the couch when Methos told them, "Not there."

"Not this again," Richelle grumbled as they turned around, "Why not?"

Methos pointed to a door and answered, "There's a bedroom in here."

"Already this is a big improvement over the last place," Richie said.

"And they're both still better than sitting back at the shop listening to MacLeod yak-yak-yak all day long," Richelle grumbled as she followed her brother into the room.

Methos hit the lights and they saw the room wasn't very large but it had a double bed in the center of it.

"How many bedrooms you got in this place?" Richelle asked.

"Enough," Methos answered as he gave them both a push and they fell on top of the bed.

Richelle was almost asleep already, Richie stayed awake long enough to get his boots off, and hers before he conked out as well. Methos pulled the top covers up on them and left the room, closing the door behind him. It was just at that time that Kronos came back inside, and Methos noted, the other two were nowhere to be seen.

"Didn't find them?" he asked.

"No," Kronos replied, "But they'll come back eventually, and when they do."

"Get in line," Methos told him, "We had an agreement about this, Kronos."

"I know."

"We both said whatever happened to MacLeod was allowable, but that those kids were supposed to be brought in unharmed," Methos reminded him.

"I know," Kronos replied, "If you're looking for a fight you're looking at the wrong person, don't forget _I_ gave the exact orders."

"Still think I'm being paranoid?" Methos asked.

Kronos didn't answer.


	6. Chapter 6

Richie looked around the dark room and tried to make out where everything was. He gave up on it and lay back against the pillows; in the dark he looked over to his sister and called over to her, "Richelle?"

"What is it?" she tiredly grumbled as she pulled a pillow over her head and turned over.

"Are you asleep?"

Richelle slowly emerged out from under the pillow and she glared at him, "What the hell you asking such a stupid question for, huh?"

"I was just thinking," he said, "Do you really think we can trust these two new guys?"

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well if these _are_ the brains behind all this, what're they going to do with us?" Richie asked, "What do they want us for? They never told us that."

"They said they will tomorrow," Richelle told him, "And I believe it, now shut up and go to sleep."

"I can't sleep," Richie said, "I'm too nervous."

"Will you quit worrying?" she replied, "You're starting to annoy me and I don't feel good as it is."

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"I feel like I could puke," she answered, "That was a horrible flight."

"This whole week has been horrible," Richie responded.

"It's still better than being home and listening to MacLeod," she told him, "Now go to sleep."

"But Richelle, what if these guys only kept us alive this long so they can have the honors of killing us?" Richie asked.

"Richie, if you don't shut up and go to bed, I'm going to kill _you_," his sister warned him, "Tomorrow we'll check the place out and determine what to do from there, now go to sleep before I murder you."

* * *

><p>Methos slept through most of what was left of the night, and awoke early the next morning when he heard the birds through the open window. After he changed his clothes and made his bed, he went over to Kronos' room; he didn't hear anything at the door so he went right in. To his surprise, Kronos was already up and looked like he had been for a while.<p>

"Did you hear anything last night?" Methos asked.

"Yeah, somebody getting up every hour to get more water from the kitchen," Kronos answered, "And you?"

"Sounded like somebody throwing up a couple of times," Methos said.

"Swell," Kronos sarcastically responded, "And Silas and Caspian never returned, did they?"

Methos shook his head, "I wonder where they went."

"Oh I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Kronos said, "You know those two, they can never keep their whereabouts secret for _too_ long."

"Unfortunately," Methos agreed.

They were interrupted by the combined sounds of a body hitting the floor, glass breaking, and somebody screaming.

"What now?" Kronos asked as they headed out the door and rushed down the stairs.

They found the problem in the kitchen; Richie was hovered over Richelle who had collapsed on the floor, a broken glass shattered beside her.

"What happened?" Methos asked.

"I don't know," Richie was shaken up, it was obvious from his voice, "She said she didn't feel well and then she just passed out."

Methos pushed Richie back and got down to get a look at Richelle, and he asked the kid, "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know," Richie answered. And then it hit him; it had been such a common fact, such an everyday topic for them to talk about, that it had been right under his nose and he had completely forgotten about it. Now he was remembering, Richelle's comments about starving to death, that hadn't been aimed at both of them, only her.

"She's anemic!" he realized

"Oh great!" Methos dryly said as he tapped her face to try and get a response from her. Now it was all hitting him: the nausea, the frequent trips to the kitchen in the night, and the lethargy, she was falling all over herself last night, he had just figured it was the lateness of the hour, but now it was making sense.

"If she's anemic, she has to be deficient of something, what is it?" he asked.

Richie's mind was racing, for an instant he couldn't think of it, and then finally he recalled, "She has a potassium deficiency, she…" she had said they might die if they didn't get out of that place soon, now he knew what she was talking about.

Methos picked Richelle up and carried her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom and put her down there where he had more room to work; Kronos and Richie followed him in and watched as Richelle remained unresponsive to everything happening. Finally, Methos told Kronos to get a bottle of whiskey and bring it in, concluding, "If that doesn't wake her up, nothing will."

"I don't get it," Richie said, "What good will that do?"

"If she doesn't wake up first, she's going to choke when we try to get something in her," Methos explained.

* * *

><p>"King of ironic when you think of it," Kronos said a while later when he and Methos stood outside the bedroom.<p>

"What is?" Methos asked.

"The fact that she almost dies, and she does it within five feet of all the food she needs," Kronos answered, "Now that's irony."

"It's sad is what it is," Methos said, "I tell you when I find Caspian I am going to beat his ears off."

Kronos snorted and remarked, "He might enjoy that."

Methos went into the bedroom and shut the door behind him; Richelle was laying in the bed and Richie was standing beside it with his hand on her shoulder. On the bedside table was an empty glass of milk, three banana peels and two orange skins, and Richelle looked stuffed as a turkey.

"How's the patient?" Methos asked as he went over to the bed.

Richelle started to talk but she covered her mouth momentarily as a small burp emitted from within her throat, then she said, "Fine."

"How long has this been going on?" Methos asked.

"Since we were kidnapped," Richelle answered, "Your brothers weren't too good to feed us every day and there wasn't much to eat as it was."

"And nothing that would do you much good either, eh?" Methos guessed.

Richelle shook her head.

"Are you on any medication for this?" Methos asked.

"No, never," she shook her head, "I just eat a lot of bananas."

"I see," Methos said, "Well, knowing what we do now, this shouldn't be a recurring problem, however I'd like to keep a bottle of supplements on hand just to make sure."

"Speaking of which," Richie said, "Just how long are we going to have to be here?"

"He's eager to go back home," Richelle explained, "I'm not."

"Oh yeah, I guess you're due that explanation," Methos said, "Well…just a minute." Methos got up, went to the door, went out and came back in pulling Kronos by the arm.

"Alright, puppet master," Methos said to his brother, "Explain."

Kronos looked annoyed at him, but he explained to Richie and Richelle, "It's not MacLeod's head we're interested in, we just want to make him suffer."

"This is a new take on an old vendetta," Methos added, "My brother here knew MacLeod over 100 years ago, they fought, he got my brother a public death and funeral, and MacLeod got away, and my brother, who can't let go of an old grudge to save his life, has been letting this one fester until it's the size of the Hindenburg."

Kronos glanced over at him through one eye, looking somewhere between annoyed and amused. He added, "In spite of my brother's underwhelming confidence, contrary to what he might think of me, I _am_ capable of changing with the times…killing MacLeod would be too quick, easy, and a very empty move…whereas torturing him can be expanded for days or weeks."

"Or months," Richelle chimed in.

"Yes," Methos confirmed, "It would seem my brother's grown up a _bit_ in the last 120 years and in such has made the graduation from simple barbaric violence to…a grander scale of torture, of the mind."

"Psychological warfare, I like it," Richelle said, "Only thing is, will it work?"

"It very well could," Kronos answered.

"You see," Methos continued, "A couple months back, we found out MacLeod was still alive, and from there, it was a matter of what would hit him the hardest?"

"Well you sure as hell missed your mark there," Richelle said, "That's not us, he doesn't care about us, it would be Tessa he'd worry about, you should've taken her."

"I don't think that would be near as effective," Methos said, "You see it was my idea to have you two brought here…when we found out MacLeod was alive we also found out about the two of you as well…and the three of you made quite an interesting show to watch. It's very unlikely that Tessa Noel would be able to keep her head on straight in a situation like this."

"Well Tessa's a nice woman but she's been severely sheltered her whole life," Richelle said, "Which is obvious, heightened only by the simple proof of who she's allowed herself to fall in love with. So much still surprises her, not me."

"Believe me, we've noticed," Methos told her, "That's what makes this more interesting. Given your own feelings towards MacLeod, we thought it'd be easier to get a willing participant out of you than it would be her."

"Well I'm up for anything that'll make him suffer," Richelle said, then pointed to her brother, "But not him, you can keep me but send him back, he doesn't belong here."

"What!" Richie looked at her, "Are you out of your mind? You almost died here!" He looked to Methos and told him, "If you have to keep somebody here, keep me but let her go, she's sick."

"Don't listen to him," Richelle said, "MacLeod's honor has been rubbing off on him, but he won't last here, he's too timid, send _him_ back."

"No, send her back," Richie told them, "I'm the only real bargaining chip here, Mac's only going to want me."

The twins went back and forth until they were talking over each other, and Methos felt like he was watching an exhausting tennis match, looking from one to the other and again and back and forth, until Kronos finally got between them and told them both, "Shut up!"

And just like that, both were quiet, Kronos turned around to face Methos and his brother said only, "Can I see you in the other room for a minute?"

They closed the door behind them, and out in the hall Methos said, "Well, did you see that? Neither one of them is willing to have the other stay here, they each asked the other be released and they be kept in place of them."

"I noticed," Kronos said.

"A funhouse mirror is still a mirror," Methos said, "The shapes change, the sizes expand, the picture's distorted but the reflection is still there, and still very clear."

"Now don't start your philosophizing again," Kronos warned him.

"I'm just saying, we both know there's another reason these two were chosen instead of the woman," Methos said.

"So there was, so what?" Kronos replied.

Methos knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with him. "Nothing, I did find something interesting from the blood sample though."

"What?" Kronos asked.

Methos had taken one of Richelle's discarded bandages the previous night and tested the blood on it to see what he could find in it. He had to laugh at times, for all the progress common mortals had made they were still decades behind on the potential forensic findings out there.

"Well she's right, from what I could find, her potassium levels dropped like the stock market in '29 over a course of just a few days," Methos said.

Kronos could tell that wasn't all he'd found, "And?"

"Before the dropping point, her mEq/L levels were high, well above normal."

"So what?" Kronos asked.

"Unless she was eating a crate of potatoes a day," Methos told him, "She couldn't have been maintaining that without any medication."

Now Kronos was lost. "Why would she lie about that?"

"I don't think she is," Methos explained, "Remember, we had no idea she was sick, obviously neither did Silas and Caspian, and they'd been watching those kids for two weeks in New York. So obviously she hadn't been taking anything, but if that's the case, it means somebody else was giving it to her and she didn't know it."

"Who? MacLeod?"

"Maybe," Methos remarked, and he went back into the bedroom, disturbing the two teenagers who had just started to fall asleep. He went over to Richelle and asked her, "Who else knows about this? Does MacLeod know?"

Richelle nodded, "He knows."

"You told him?" Methos asked.

"He was told," Richelle answered, but there was something to the way she'd said it that told Methos there was more going on than she would let on. But he could tell he wouldn't get anything else out of her at the time and he replied, "Go back to sleep."

They both groaned as they fell back against the pillows and tried to ignore anything else going on at that time.

* * *

><p>An hour passed and then two and still Silas and Caspian were nowhere to be seen.<p>

"I'm starting to get worried," Methos told Kronos as they headed through the hall.

"Big surprise there," Kronos replied.

"I'm serious, Kronos," Methos said as they went into the kitchen, "What if…"

He stopped when they about collided with Richie who looked slightly dazed.

"Oh it's you," Methos said, "Where's your sister?"

"She's still in bed," he answered, and Methos noticed that he seemed worried, and this was confirmed when Richie then asked, "Is she going to die?"

"Of course not," Methos replied a bit too quickly, "Why would you ask something like that?"

Richie shook his head, "She's never been this sick before."

"That you know of," Methos reminded him, "But you've only known her for a few months, haven't you?"

Richie looked stunned, "How did you know that? I never said anything."

"You didn't have to," Kronos told him, and pointed at his brother and explained, "Seeing and hearing what he's not supposed to is his strong suit."

"It comes with the territory," Methos said and Richie noticed he quickly rolled down the sleeve on his wrist.

Richie noticed the two Immortals looked at each other suddenly and then turned and looked back to the door.

"They came back, didn't they?" he asked.

He got his answer when they heard the front door slam shut, followed by the noise of two people arguing, and that was a sound Richie already knew too well.

Silas and Caspian had for some reason decided to take their argument into another room and it just happened that they shut themselves in the room Richelle had been left in. They got a few words out between one another before they realized they weren't alone in that room.

Richelle, as pale as the shirt she was wearing, suddenly opened her eyes and rose up in the bed in the same stiff and unnatural manner Count Orlok arose from his coffin once the sun set. Through exhausted and frustrated eyes, she glared across the room at them and told them, "You two monkeys are starting to annoy me, didn't anybody ever warn you that it's bad omen to annoy _dying_ people?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Caspian asked.

Richelle laughed bitterly as she tossed back the sheets and got up, "Sorry to disappoint you but you haven't killed me yet. You'll have to try harder than that, though you'd be a really sorry sight now to kill somebody who's already dying as it is." She practically floated over to him as she added, "But before I go I'm getting another chance at your own neck." And with that she clamped her hands down on the sides of his neck and squeezed into him. But it was just at that minute that the others came in and Methos and Kronos grabbed her and pushed her back over to the bed and knocked her down on it.

"And where have _you_ been?" Methos asked the others.

"Trying to stay alive for one thing," Caspian answered, "They're on the move again, as if we didn't have enough problems already, now these two screaming idiots!"

Richelle tried to get up again but Methos pushed her back down and both he and Kronos grabbed her wrists and held her down; she was suddenly showing an unexpected amount of strength for the condition she was in. Still she couldn't resist yelling across the room, "If you want to hear screaming, this is it!" and she went into fits of shaking as she yelled at the top of her lungs like a disgruntled baby. Methos was the first to respond to it, and he did so by grabbing one of the pillows and pressing it over her face to shut her up. Kronos watched for a few seconds before he grabbed Methos and pulled him off of her and asked him, "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Methos was about to lose it and he started yelling at everybody to get out of the room; Richie tried to get over to his sister but Methos grabbed him by the arm and pushed him to the door, concluding that he especially was to leave the room.

"Let go of me!" Richie fought with him, but Methos was just as stubborn as he was.

"Shut up," he replied as he actually lifted Richie off the ground momentarily and then dropped him again.

Richie jerked around and saw that Silas and Caspian were gone and now it was just the three of them.

"What the hell is going on around here?" Richie demanded to know.

Methos answered without missing a beat, "Your sister is a very sick girl and she needs to rest, in order for that to happen she needs to be _left alone_!"

"You said that she wasn't going to die!" Richie reminded him.

"And she won't, but she needs to rest," Methos explained as calmly as he could.

"Yeah but what if…" Richie was quickly cut off.

"She'll be fine, if anything _would_ happen, we're close enough we'll know," Methos assured him, "Now do us all a favor and shut up, you're only going to keep her awake and you're also starting to get on my nerves."

"Well?" Richie said, "Where am I supposed to go?"

Methos pointed towards the living room and Richie went, though reluctantly. Methos didn't even have to turn around to see the amused look on his brother's face and he cut him off at the pass with a simple, "Shut up, Kronos."

"I didn't say anything," his brother replied.

"Well make sure you don't," Methos told him.

Kronos walked up to him and said only, "And you complain about how _I_ act."

* * *

><p>"I still don't get it," Richie said later when he followed the two Immortals into the kitchen, "What's this all about?"<p>

"I already told you," Methos answered as he seemed to pay more attention to the newspaper on the table he was reading, "Psychological warfare…it's not MacLeod's head that we want. My brother just wants to make him suffer for a while and I helped him because I come up with all of our plans, and I had nothing better to do."

"But I still don't get it, you're talking about something that was over a hundred years ago," Richie said as he climbed on the chair beside Methos and rested on his knees.

"That's right, and unfortunately for MacLeod, my brother has a very good memory," Methos said, "He forgets nothing. He's an elephant."

Kronos came up behind Methos and hit him on the head with his fist when he said that. Methos fell back in his chair, looked up at Kronos and asked, "What the hell was that for?"

"For now," Kronos answered, and headed over to the other side of the room.

Richie looked at Kronos as he disappeared through another door, then he looked back at Methos and said, "Brothers, huh? I'll believe it."

"You have no idea," Methos told him.

"Do you know Mac?" Richie asked.

Methos turned to him but wouldn't look him in the eyes as he answered, "No, I never met him."

"Then why're you a part of this then?" Richie asked.

"Oh trust me," Methos said, "You wouldn't want to know what your situation would be here were I _not_ involved."

"You mean it could be _worse_?" Richie asked.

"Didn't think that was possible, did you?" Methos responded, "Yeah, I figured we might get better results if the treatment was more akin to a third rate hotel rather than a POW camp."

"Do you have any idea what we were put through at that last place?" Richie asked, "They shot Mac, they threw a stun grenade at us, they threw is in a van, they locked us in, they electrified the windows, that fat guy almost strangled us to death, and my sister almost died staying there."

"And that is unfortunate," Methos said, "But you should be grateful that she didn't. Trust me, kid, had it been anybody else that snatched you two up, you wouldn't have been so lucky."

"I don't know about that," Richie replied.

"Oh really?" Methos didn't sound convinced, "And why is that?"

"Well you and your brothers are pretty old, right? Maybe the oldest Immortals around? If it was anybody else they would have been younger and maybe not able to anticipate every detail like you guys did, we could've gotten away."

"Right, except had it been anybody else, what reason would they have to keep you alive?" Methos asked, "If they wanted MacLeod's head, they wouldn't have to produce you alive to fight him, they'd have him come to find you and then ambush him." Methos saw the look on Richie's face change dramatically and he added, "You see you're still young enough that you don't think everything through like that. You don't always see the bigger picture, me, I've seen every picture there ever was, and some of them twice."

"I still don't get why this is happening," Richie told him.

"I know you don't," Methos said, "And I don't expect it to make a lot of sense to you."

"Let me guess, I'd have to be as old as you are to get it, right?"

"Maybe," Methos replied, "I think you're just a little too naïve to appreciate what's going on."

"Appreciate it, eh?" Richie asked, "I hope I never get that old."

"Don't worry," Methos told him, "I doubt you will."

Richie didn't like the way he said that and decided to get out of the room before Methos elaborated on what he meant by it. He didn't see anyone coming or going and he went back to the bedroom to see how Richelle was doing; she was still asleep and completely unaware of her surroundings. Richie checked to make sure that she was breathing and he checked her pulse even though he had no idea what he was checking for; still, he wasn't sure that he bought this story the Immortals were giving them about just wanting to screw with Mac's head and he decided he better find a way out that they could escape in a moment's notice. And if his sister was too sick to help him look, he'd just find it himself.

* * *

><p>The first thing Richie did was check the windows in the bedroom; they weren't electrified but he couldn't get them to open either. He left the bedroom and checked the windows in the living room, they were locked and he wasn't sure they weren't booby trapped. He decided he'd come back to them later and continued looking around the living room; now that the initial excitement had worn off, Richie was able to get a better look at everything around the house. All around the house he noticed pieces of art and all sorts of trinkets and knickknacks from another place and time; some pieces he could identify from being around the antique shop for so long, others he had no idea when or where they came from.<p>

Across from the couch was a large TV and Richie considered turning it on to even find out what day it was and what the hell had been going on in the world for the past week; but his attention was drawn to something else, over on the wall opposite him, built into the wall was a red brick fireplace, but Richie noticed that it had been boarded up. He hadn't had a chance yet to see what the rest of the house looked like but it seemed odd for the main fireplace to have long boards nailed up the entire front, what purpose would there be in that? And then a horrifying idea hit Richie.

He recalled a few months back he and Richelle stayed up one night discussing Edgar Allen Poe, Richelle was convinced during some time in the guy's life he must've been a witness to somebody being bricked up inside a wall because it was used in a lot of his stories. And in fact, hadn't there been one story where people were murdered, and their corpses were stuffed up the chimney? Richie didn't have any idea why but he felt himself being drawn to the fireplace, he knelt down and pressed his ear against the boards, as if he expected to hear something or someone in there. He knocked lightly on one of the boards and asked, the fear present in his voice, "Is anybody in there, huh?" Nothing, of course he knew that didn't mean anything.

"What're you doing?" he heard from behind him. Richie spun around and fell on the floor and saw Methos standing in the doorway watching him.

"Why's the fireplace boarded up?" he asked.

"To keep the bats out," Methos answered, but Richie didn't believe it. As soon as he was gone, Richie all but ran back to the bedroom to get Richelle and figure a way to get the hell out.

Richelle was still out cold on the bed when Richie grabbed her and that brought her back to reality.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I think we better get out of here," he told her.

She looked over at him with her eyes fully open now and asked, "Why, what's going on now?"

"Come here, I'll show you," he jerked her by the arm and led her back out to the living room and showed her the fireplace.

"It's boarded up," she said as she got down on her knees to better examine it.

"That's right, but why?" Richie asked, "Why would they have it boarded up?"

"Trolls maybe?" Richelle guessed.

"Trolls?" Richie asked.

Richelle looked up at him when she realized he didn't get it and she said, "Oh boy I've got to have a serious talk with you sometime, brother."

"Do you think there could be a body stuffed up in it?" he asked her.

"I doubt it, Richie," she replied, "These guys don't strike me as the type that would leave souvenirs hanging around like that."

"Well, why else would they close it up?" he asked.

"Maybe they think we're stupid enough to try climbing up it."

"That's ridiculous, who could climb up a chimney?" Richie asked.

"Well nobody I know," Richelle answered, "But chimneys used to be made much bigger inside when fireplaces were the home's primary source of heat…it could be this one is too, and were that the case, it would be relatively easy to get down one so might be possible to climb up it as well. So, by boarding it up they seal off a potential escape for us. _Or_," she added, "It could be to keep somebody out."

"Alright," Richie said, "Who the hell would be dumb enough to try coming down the chimney?"

She looked at her brother and then back to the boards and said only, "I wonder," and she started testing the nails to see if they could be removed. "Where is everyone?"

"Methos and Kronos are in the kitchen, and the other two disappeared again," he answered.

"They might come in," Richelle told him, "We'll wait until they've gone to sleep tonight before we try opening this up. It might be nothing here, but I want to see for myself."

Richie nodded, "Me too."


	7. Chapter 7

They heard somebody coming out of the kitchen and they both got up and tried not to look suspicious. Methos came into the room and was surprised to see Richelle was out of bed, and it showed as he asked her, "Who let you out?"

Richelle didn't answer him, instead she just looked him up and down like she was sizing him up, and he noticed. "What're you doing?"

"I was just thinking," she replied, "You seem to be the scrawniest one in the bunch, in fact you look like a scarecrow I used to set on fire."

"Well don't get any ideas," Methos warned her, then he made a face that looked like he was choking on something.

"What is it?" she asked.

"When was the last time you bathed?"

"Halloween, why?" Richelle asked.

"No wonder," Methos said, and started pushing her to the bathroom, "You smell overripe. Go take a bath, and throw your clothes out here, they'll either have to be washed or burnt."

"Incase you didn't notice, Scarecrow," Richelle told him, "The only carry-ons that came were us, we don't have any extra clothes."

"I'll take care of that, just _do_ it," Methos replied, he turned to Richie and added, "You too."

Richie was reluctant to do so; it was bad enough they'd been shanghaied all over the place and left in the dark until this point, but they'd been dragged into this with no warning and had been brought without anything of theirs, no money, no luggage, no I.D., they didn't even have their jackets, and now they were expected to peel off the last property they had with them, that had become their second skin over the past week, hence risking losing the last evidence there was that they had been there. If they were to be killed, there wouldn't be anything to trace their last whereabouts by, but he didn't see it as they had any choice.

He quickly found out that he and Methos were roughly the same size, and what he found to be equally frightening was they seemed to dress about the same; looking at himself in the mirror he realized that the jeans and T-shirt he was wearing could easily have been his own. Now all that was left to do was wait and see how Richelle looked; his sister had been locked in the bathroom for half an hour and hadn't shown her face yet. Methos returned to the living room and saw Richie and folded his arms against his chest and said as nonchalantly as he could, though he looked like he was trying not to laugh, "Well I don't know about you but I'm very disappointed. Where's your sister?"

They heard the bathroom door swing open and Richelle entered the room a moment later, fit to be tied; she was dressed in an obscenely large white shirt that fit her like a dress two sizes too big and just barely stayed on her shoulders.

"Alright you son of a bitch," she said as she came up to Methos, "What kind of sick joke is this? Who the hell wears anything this fat around here?"

The front door opened and Caspian and Silas walked in, and Richelle quickly added, "Never mind, I think I got my answer."

"Well it was the best I could do on short notice," Methos told her, "Your clothes should be dry by tonight."

"Oh joy," she dryly remarked. She moved away from him and Richie watched as she went over to the windows and started to untie the rope from the curtains; but what Richie's attention was drawn to was the conversation between the Immortals. He heard Methos tell Caspian that Kronos wanted to see him, and the two Immortals headed off for the back of the house to find him.

Richie turned to Richelle and saw she was tying the rope around the bottom of the shirt and he said to her, "I wonder what they're up to now."

"Beats the hell out of me," was his sister's response.

They got a partial answer a few minutes later when they heard loud noises coming from one of the back rooms; loud crashes and people yelling and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor and the walls, and for all they knew, the ceiling as well. They went into the kitchen and saw Methos was watching the closed door to the room where the noises were emanating from.

"What's going on?" Richie asked.

"Payback," Methos answered as he turned to them, "When Kronos gives orders, he doesn't tolerate anybody changing them. He gave direct orders for you two to be brought in unharmed…"

"But when he found these," Richelle pointed to the three bruises on the side of her head, "And he knew Caspian was responsible, that set him off."

"Something like that," Methos said.

"But why'd he wait until now?" she asked.

"I told you before, he never forgets, Caspian and Silas never came home last night so Kronos had time to cool off, but he didn't forget it, he didn't have a chance earlier when they got back but he sure as hell does now."

They listened to the sound of what they presumed to be Caspian's body being thrown up against the wall and Richie asked Methos, "How long is that going to go on?"

"Could be a while," Methos answered, "Kronos' personal best was 38 hours."

Richie and Richelle turned and looked at each other before stepping away from him, and over to the table. Richelle saw a bowl of crackers and started shoving several of them into her mouth. Richie looked at her disgustedly and said, "What's the matter with you? Can't you wait?"

Richelle managed to get out a heavily muffled and sarcastic, "Oh, sorry!" and spit the cracker crumbs out on the table in a dry heap. Richie just rolled his eyes and shook his head and Methos struggled with himself to keep from commenting on how much she reminded him of someone else. The twins left the kitchen and returned to the living room for the time being. Richie went to turn on the TV and Richelle went over to the wall and looked at the clock and moved the hands forward half an hour. Richie asked her, "What's that for?"

"I'm synchronizing the clock," she said, "I figure half an hour's probably all the more Dragon Puss got in with me last night when he was trying to kill me, so I want to see how long this brawl with Kronos goes on for."

Methos entered the living room carrying two plates of food and found the twins hitting the sides of the television set which was only putting out snow on the screen.

"What're you two doing?" he asked.

"Trying to get it to work," was Richelle's answer as they continued beating it with their fists. Finally Richelle kicked it and the picture came back on.

"And for that the repairmen charge $50 an hour for their services," Methos dryly commented as he put the plates down, "Here's your dinner."

They took the plates and sat down on the couch to eat as they saw what was on the TV; what was on it was "The Last House on the Left", and after five minutes of watching it, Richie lost his appetite and pushed his plate away. His sister on the other hand watched the movie and not only finished her dinner but ate off of his plate as well. Over the noises from the TV, they heard voices in the other room, and Richelle turned the volume down so they could hear. Kronos and Methos were talking amongst themselves as they came out of the kitchen and Richie and his sister picked up on part of the conversation.

"First it was the phone calls," Methos reminded Kronos, "Then Caspian slashed his wrists open over those papers and sent them to MacLeod, now what, puppet master?"

Kronos glared at him and warned him, "Stop calling me that." Then he added, "MacLeod's worried but I think it's time we sent him something a bit more…tangible to confirm his fears."

"Pictures?" Methos asked.

"Why not?" Kronos asked, "He'll know they're still alive but that won't do much for his relief."

Methos pointed to the twins and stated the obvious, "Do they look like they're being tortured?"

Richelle's attention shifted from listening to them to watching the movie, and upon seeing a particularly bloody scene, a thought came to hear. She turned to the Immortals and said, "If you want to make MacLeod worry, I've got an idea."

They turned to her and Methos asked, "What is it?"

* * *

><p>When Duncan opened the front door to see who had knocked, he couldn't see anybody, and he couldn't feel anybody. But, on the doorstep there rested another box, a smaller one this time. Again, no return address or anything that could help him figure out who had sent it or from where. There weren't any delivery services in town that ran at 9 o' clock at night, so Duncan knew who was responsible; but how they had eluded him again, he couldn't figure out.<p>

The past few days had been hell; police had not been contacted, he knew that wouldn't have done any good, he kept on with a public appearance as though nothing was the matter. When Tessa called he told her that Richie and his sister were either out, or that Connor had come for a visit and he had them; when Connor called he told his cousin that the twins were out doing something: gone to the movies, gone to the library, the arcade, out for a ride on Richelle's motorcycle, anything that would buy him more time. He couldn't possibly explain to anybody what had happened; especially when they were thousands of miles away and couldn't possibly do anything to help.

Duncan dreaded what he might find in it but he picked up the package and took it in and set it on the table and cut through the tape to open it up. Inside of it was a smaller box, like the kind women's bracelets were kept in, he took the lid off of it and saw it was full of Polaroid photographs. He took them out and saw there were half a dozen of them, all turned face down.

He turned them over and looked through them, and his heart jumped in his throat at what he saw: in the first picture Richie and Richelle were shown leaning against a wall, they looked like they hadn't slept or eaten in days, in another Richelle was shown with bruises all over her face and arms, which were folded over her head as if she was trying to protect it from a blow. In the next picture they were both curled up on the floor and looked like they were cold, miserable and trying to sleep. The next picture didn't show their faces, but it showed close ups of bloody arms. The last photo contained the fuller picture; Richie and Richelle were both on the floor with their arms shielding their faces, and they both had long bloody cuts all over their forearms. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Duncan felt sick.

* * *

><p>"Boy this stuff sure doesn't want to come off," Richie said as he tried in vain to scrub the blood off his wrist.<p>

"It's food coloring, it doesn't wash off," Richelle told him, "Not easily anyway…most of it's going to have to wear off."

Richie couldn't help but laugh, "Do you think Mac will really buy it?"

"I don't know why he shouldn't," Methos answered, "I took the pictures myself and I about bought it for a minute.

Richelle and Richie were back in their regular clothes again and their current appearance was a large improvement over earlier. Richie felt like he was back in his own skin, and Richelle was relieved to be out of the tent they called a T-shirt; tying the bottom of it shut like Claretta Petacci's skirt had been no problem but she told her brother the oversized neck was liable to fall off her shoulders at any time and she was in no mood to give anybody a free show, although in her typical crude demeanor she commented it would've been more to look at than if it were Tessa in her position.

"MacLeod should have gotten the pictures by now," Kronos announced as he entered the living room, "By now the miserable bastard should be absolutely furious."

"I had figured that would do it," Richelle said, "If anything's going to get a reaction out of that dumb sack of haggis, I…"

She had stuck her arm out to the side and about hit Kronos, he grabbed her wrist and in doing so, noticed a light mark etched into her skin. "Nice scar," he commented, "What is this from, a bayonet?"

"Really, Kronos," Methos rolled his eyes.

"No, he's right, it was from the blade of a bayonet a couple months back," Richelle told him, then looking to Kronos she asked him, "How did you guess?"

"I think a better question," Methos said, "Is where do you get bayonet injuries in late 20th Century western society?"

"At the antique store," Richelle answered without thinking.

"What antique store?" Methos asked.

Richelle realized she'd let something slip and she dryly answered, "Never mind" as she pulled her arm away from him.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Richie and his sister made themselves at home for the night in the living room; they'd found out the couch pulled out into a hide-a-bed and planned to stay out there and watch TV for the night. That was what they told Methos anyway, and he seemed to buy it; but when the Immortals had gone upstairs and the twins were sure they weren't coming back down, they jumped off the couch and set to work on the boards to the fireplace. Richelle turned the volume up on the TV to cover the noise of the nails being pulled out, while Richie tested the nails to see if they could be ripped out by hand. He quickly concluded that they were in too far and that they would need a hammer to get them out. So Richelle went into the kitchen and sorted through the drawers and quickly found a claw hammer, but she couldn't resist looking through the other things on hand and found among them, an ice pick, a small hatchet, and a metal meat hammer, all of which she entertained the notions of using on Caspian at some point during their stay.<p>

She returned to the living room and gave Richie the hammer and she stood guard near the hall to listen incase anybody came down. Richelle hoped the noises were as muffled upstairs as they were from the hall because she could hardly hear the noise and she never heard anybody moving around up on the second floor. After ten minutes she went back to the living room and saw that Richie had gotten the boards off; he stuck his head into the fireplace and looked up and told her that it looked like any normal fireplace, nothing unusual at all, and he couldn't figure out why it had been shut up in the first place. Richelle just folded her arms against her chest and looked up at it and said, "I wonder."

Richie turned to her and asked, "Wonder what?"

"Never mind," she told him, "So that idea's out, tomorrow we're going to have to search through the rest of this house and find out exactly what they have here."

* * *

><p>They forgot to replace the boards but the next morning when the Immortals came down, they didn't seem to notice, so the twins figured it must not have been anything important. Richie and his sister confronted Methos about seeing the rest of the house, to which he had no objections, but he advised them any attempts to break out of there would prove to be futile.<p>

"Well now where would the fun be in that?" Richelle replied.

In searching the first floor, they found it consisted of the living room, a dining room, the kitchen, two bathrooms, a large pantry in the back with a big chest freezer that they decided they _didn't_ want to know what was inside, and two bedrooms in addition to the one they had occupied. Up on the second floor however, they found it was a labyrinth of bedrooms and it was debatable which were and were not being used, they all looked about the same, as though nobody had occupied them for years; though they kept themselves amused by guessing which of the four Methos and his brothers were currently using: one had a large collection of human skulls in it, another had taxidermy animals mounted on the walls and a large bearskin rug on the floor, another room looked to them like it was something out of the Dark Ages, most of the furniture was made out of metal and there were several odd shaped metal candle holders built into the walls that almost gave off the appearance of being torches.

"I'll just about bet you this one belongs to that fruitcake Kronos," Richelle told her brother, "It looks like him."

Richie's only response was a small, dry laugh as he looked around at the place. He had his back to her and didn't see his sister get on the floor and crawl under the bed to see what was down there. She quickly returned with a shocked look on her face and she showed Richie why; under the bed she'd found a pair of boots that had metal spikes sticking out all sides of them, and they quickly concluded anybody that kicked with these would leave the spikes in somebody's flesh.

"This must be what happens to the Scarecrow when he's bad," she cynically commented. With that thought in mind, she dropped the boots like a hot potato and shoved them back under the bed and they got out of there quickly.

Down near the end of the hall they reached their newest enigma since the fireplace; there was one door that wouldn't open and they quickly concluded that it was locked.

"You won't be able to get that one opened," they heard from behind, and they both about had a heart attack.

They spun around and saw Kronos standing behind them and Richelle was the one to ask, "What _is_ this room?"

"This is Methos' room, _nobody_ goes in there except for him," Kronos explained.

"And you really mean to tell us you couldn't pick the lock to get in and find out why?" Richelle asked.

Kronos gave a smug look as he shrugged and said, "There are some things about my brother I'm sure even _I_ don't want to know about." And on that note, he disappeared and left the two teenagers to talk amongst themselves.

"What do you think?" Richie asked.

Richelle shrugged and said, "I think we ought to find out what's in there."

"What do you think it is?" he asked.

"Beats the hell out of me, could be anything," she said, "Didn't you ever hear that story about Bluebeard?"

"No," Richie answered.

Richelle made a face at him and commented, "Strike that up as another talk I've gotta have with you sometime, brother." She leaned against the wall and stuck her hands in her pockets as she added, "If we were back home we could get in there very easily, all we'd need would be…" she stopped and her eyes bugged out as she felt something in her pocket. She pulled out a small case containing lock picks. They were Richie's of course, Richelle hardly bothered with the things, certainly not enough to carry them around routinely; that quickly drew them to two conclusions, one was that they hadn't come out in the wash, and two that they each had the other's clothes on.

Richelle handed him the small case and said only, "Yours, I believe."

Richie opened the case and quickly looked through the picks to see which would be best for the door; he took one out and gave the rest to his sister as he decided to try it. First they checked the rest of the upstairs to make sure that nobody was around, and it was only when they concluded that the coast was clear that they started. Richie tried his luck with the picks while Richelle held the case and kept an eye out for anybody coming up the stairs. The first one didn't work so he tried another, and it failed also, but finally about the fifth time he managed to move the bolt inside the door.

"Open sesame," he said with a chuckle right before he threw the door open.

They stepped into the dark room and found a light switch near the door, and when the lights came on they stared on in awe, and Richelle was the first one to find her voice as she got out only a low, "Oh…my…God."

* * *

><p>Connor was surprised when he got the phone call from Paris, though he knew <em>who<em> it had to be calling, there wasn't any question about that. Though he was surprised that Tessa had forgotten about the six hour time difference and had gotten him out of bed at 4 o' clock in the morning; that told him that something had to be wrong, but he decided to play it by ear.

"Tessa, how's the family?" he asked.

"We're all fine on this end, Connor," she said, "Listen, have you spoken to Duncan lately?"

"Yeah," Connor answered, "A few times, why? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," he could hear the worry in her usually bubbly voice as she added, "I've called a few times over the week, and every time I call, Richie and Richelle aren't there."

"I know," Connor confirmed it, "He always says they're out somewhere…but even for Richelle this would have to be a new record. Apparently there was some kind of fight last time they were all together and I've been anticipating her to call and complain about him again, but nothing."

"Connor, do you think anything's happened to them?" Tessa asked.

Connor tried to assure her, "It's probably nothing, but I was thinking of coming out to the west side and seeing what's up. Duncan doesn't know about it so it's going to be a real surprise to him. When I find out what's going on with the kids, I'll let you know, what's the number?"

She told him and he quickly scribbled it down on a piece of paper, and he told her, "As soon as I find out what's up, I'll let you know, but I wouldn't worry, Tessa. Knowing those two, they're probably having the time of their lives."

* * *

><p>It had taken a few minutes for the initial shock to wear off, but when it finally did, Richie and Richelle moved further into Methos' room and closed the door behind them. What they had found looked by no means like the bedroom a man hundreds or thousands of years old would have; instead it looked like some child's playroom, there were toys of all sorts scattered all over the room, some in a very organized condition and others just discarded wherever. Also in the room were several large bookcases clear full, a large bed in the center of the room, and a couple of tables covered in assortments of junk.<p>

"Sheesh," Richelle said as she looked up at the model warplanes hanging from the ceiling, "This guy's got more toys than I do."

And where Richie was concerned, that was no small task, he remembered what her room looked like.

"What do you think he has all this stuff for?" Richie asked.

"We've got this guy pegged as being an old one, right?" she said.

"Right, so what?" Richie asked.

"Older Immortals tend to drift towards multiple-personality disorders, it could be this guy Methos has two sides to him, at least two anyway: one, the intelligent mature scarecrow we're familiar with, and another side, a younger, immature, demon child form of himself."

"You really think so?" he asked.

"It's possible, ain't it?" she replied.

"I guess so," Richie said.

He looked around in awe at the old metal trucks that had to be at least 40 years old and were still in near perfect condition, and in more recent collections he seemed to have every Transformer ever made. Richelle found a small collection of toy robots over in one corner and she found a black one with an on/off switch and when she turned him on, his eyes got red and smoke started to pour out of him.

"Hey Richie, how old do you think this one is?" she asked as she showed him the robot.

"I had one of those," he said, "I think it's about 10 years old."

"10 years old, eh?" she asked, "Well then it's _too_ young to be smoking!" She about dropped the robot when she saw something else. "Hey Richie, look at this!"

He turned to see what she was all excited about, and he couldn't believe it when he _did_ see it; two large Gremlin dolls, two feet tall at least, Stripe from the first movie and Mohawk from the second. Richelle grabbed up one in each arm and held them up on either side of her. Richie grimaced and commented, "Triplets!" He went over to get a better look at them and he told her, "I don't remember them selling anything like this, they look like they were custom made."

"They probably were," Richelle commented as she put one down, "He's old enough he can probably afford anything he wants." She started laughing as she told him, "These are about as big as those just-your-size dolls, but they sure are heavy, wonder what kind of plastic they make these things with."

"Where'd you find those?" Richie asked.

Richelle pointed to the corner she found them in and they saw the rest of the collection; some of the toys looked authentic but there were others that looked custom made, including a set of dolls barely one foot tall that consisted of the two leaders plus a pair that Richie well remembered from the second movie: George and Lenny, one small and serious, the other larger and very stupid, the perfect combination for any pairing. That gave Richie and idea and upon making eye contact with Richelle he could tell she was thinking the same thing; those four dolls gave them a slightly unnerving sense of déjà vu in comparison to their four hosts.

"This is pretty neat," Richie said as they continued looking around the room.

"Yeah, but no wonder he keeps it locked," Richelle replied, "His brothers would probably break everything."

"Yeah, but you said it yourself, that lock's not going to keep them out, so why _haven't_ they come in here?"

"Maybe they find this motif too sick even for _them_," Richelle said as she sorted through a bunch of junk on a nightstand, "And if that's the case I can certainly see why. Hey, check these out."

Richie turned and saw her pick up a pair of sunglasses and she commented, "Pure black, like Jim Jones."

She put them on and started laughing maniacally and then said, with her accent causing some mistranslation, "Mudder mudder mudder please, don't be like that! We could not _live_ in peace, so we'll _die_ in peace!" Richelle laughed a couple of times before pulling the sunglasses off and concluding, "That is just wrong on _so_ many levels."

Richie looked over to the other side of the room and he noticed something and had Richelle follow him. On the table by the bed there were three telephones: two that looked perfectly normal, one red and one yellow, and the third was a Batmobile phone.

"I wonder what he needs with three of them," Richie said.

"I've seen it on TV," Richelle said, and pointed to them one by one, "This one's stuck to the table and can't be picked up, this one's got a three inch cord that suddenly shoots out into three hundred feet, and the Batman one's the only one that actually works."

On that last word they both got an idea and decided to find out if it _did_ work and if it did, they were making one very long distance call to Paris.

* * *

><p>Tessa had been sitting by the phone in silence. She hadn't been waiting for a call, she'd just been too lazy to move since hanging up with Connor. The sudden ringing about made her fall back, she picked up the receiver and answered, "Hello?"<p>

"Hey Tess, what's up?"

"Richie!" she was overwhelmed with relief, "How are you?"

"We're fine, Tess, how're things going with you?" he asked.

"Things are fine here, where have you been?" Tessa asked, "I've been calling all week and Duncan always says you're out."

"Oh, well…"

She heard somebody else get on the line and suddenly Richelle was on the line and explained, "Some of my friends came over from New York and we've all just been coming and going and terrorizing the city. They can't believe how boring this place is, of course as anybody knows, after living in New York City all your life, any other place _is_ going to be dull."

"I'm sure," Tessa replied, "I'm glad you called, I was starting to get worried."

"Oh come on, Tess," Richelle told her, "You should know us better than that, it's like I told you before, we're adults, we know how to handle ourselves."

Tessa smiled and said, "I suppose so. Well, I'll be home sometime next week and I'll see you then."

"Okay, bye Tess!" Richie said.

Tessa heard the receiver click and she put hers down and looked at the phone and just smiled; those two, always up to something. She looked at the picture she'd set down by the phone; a photograph of Richie and his sister taken a few months back when they were in New York. The two were the perfect partners in crime and were getting in trouble so often that Connor had christened them the real life Bart and Lisa Simpson; though nobody had been able to figure out which was which. She wouldn't lie, she was thankful she hadn't had to bring these two up from babies, she doubted she could've survived that; it was better to get them as late teenagers and steer into the skid from there.

She could admit they were certainly a handful at times, but while she could understand Duncan's frustration with them, she wouldn't condone it; to join him on that sinking ship would've been futile. Unfortunately for them, Connor had taught Richelle two things above all else and she had passed those lessons onto her brother: the first was that the good die young, and the second was that well behaved people didn't make history.

* * *

><p>"That should keep Tessa from worrying about us anymore, for a while anyway. I say we call Connor now," Richie said, "You know he's <em>had<em> to have been calling Mac."

"That's for sure," Richelle replied as she started to dial Connor's number.

She stopped and hung up however, when they heard voices coming down the hall. They couldn't get out of the room now without being seen, so they decided to lay low, quite literally, and they hid under the bed and waited to see if anybody was coming in. Footsteps stopped outside the door but after a few seconds they continued down the hallway and eventually headed down the stairs, so Richie and Richelle crawled out from under the bed and resumed their antics.

There was still much of the room that they hadn't seen because a lot of things were hidden under white sheets, used Richelle had suspected as drop cloths given that the house hadn't been occupied until two nights ago. She had told Richie she expected Methos only uncovered the things he planned to use in the immediate future and left the rest of the stuff for later; so now that they were convinced they didn't have to worry about somebody coming in, they set about removing the sheets and finding what else the room contained.

Richie pulled up one sheet and found a computer on a large desk, and there were several CD-ROM games beside it.

"Hey sis, check this out," he said.

Richelle came over to him and she flipped through the CD jewel cases and found one that struck her interest, "King's Quest VI, and this is the new improved one. I could only get the old one."

"Well what's supposed to be so improved about this version?" Richie asked.

Richelle looked at him and said, "Turn the computer on and we'll see."

Once the computer came on, they put the game in and started it up. Richie commanded the controls first, and while he did that, Richelle looked through the other discs to see what they were. There was one in a clear jewel case that didn't have any name on it, just a weird graphic on the top of the CD; a circle with 13 purple spots going around the edge and in the middle there was some purple symbol.

"What's this look like?" she showed Richie.

He shrugged and guessed, "A Y I suppose."

"A Y?" Richelle asked.

Richie looked at it again and said, "Alright, some origami bird."

Richelle shrugged and replied, "We'll have to try this game next and find out what it is."

"Right," Richie said cynically, "Right after we figure out how to defeat the Minotaur, the statue with the crossbow and that golden eyed genie."

* * *

><p>About an hour later, they had managed to win the game and were reveling in their victory as they stumbled over to the bed laughing.<p>

"That's a _much_ better version," Richelle said, "It's funnier when they talk instead of just the words come up on the screen, especially the tomato, _Noooo! Not into the swamp!_" she fell on the bed alongside her brother laughing.

Richie made his voice nasal to match hers, "_You're ugly and you smell bad, nyeah! Put me down before I juice all over you!_"

"You know Richie, it's funny, during that game I got the feeling that we're in the middle of something similar," she said.

"How do you figure that?" he asked.

"Well think about it," Richelle said, "Methos, he's like Alexander, he's got to be the hero, he's got to figure out everything."

"Yeah?" Richie said.

"And Kronos, he's like the Lord of the Dead," Richelle told him.

"Or like the Minotaur," he replied, "Or the Beast."

"I'll guarantee you, put a mirror up in front of him and he'd crack too," she replied, "And Silas, he's like that fat clown in the castle."

"And what does that make Caspian?" Richie asked, "The man-eating door? No no no, I know what it is, I've got it!" he was laughing and seemed excited by his discovery as he said, "Kronos is the Vizier who kills anyone who gets in his way, Methos is the genie, he can go anywhere and turn into anything to get in the hero's way and set him up to get killed, and Silas and Caspian are two of the guard dogs who work under the Vizier's orders!"

They laughed for a few seconds more before the idea fully hit them and they suddenly grew very serious and looked at each other, silently contemplating how much truth was in that statement. Richelle reached over and grabbed Richie's arm to get his attention, and she recalled another line from the game, her voice almost shaking, "I've got a lawyer you know…nyeah…there's kidnapping laws in this here kingdom!"

They both jumped off the bed and sprinted for the door. They listened to make sure nobody was out there and when they were sure the coast was clear, they got out, and they looked around to see where the Immortals were. They heard voices coming from downstairs and they went over to the banister and were able to look down into the front room. The four Immortals were gathered around a round table like King Arthur and his knights; they were all hovering around a map as Methos explained something to the others. His voice was too low for the twins to pick up on until Methos made mention of a bomb, then his voice picked up slightly.

"Caspian, you're stationed at this corner, the bomb goes off just as the clock strikes the hour. Make sure that nobody gets in _or_ out."

"Right."

"We'll come in from the rear," Methos gestured to he and Kronos, "And take out any surprises back there."

"We certainly will," Kronos commented self assuredly, and it was then that Richie and his sister saw the gun he'd been concealing in his jacket, a full automatic.

"How many do you figure dead, Methos?"

"At least 50," he seemed pleased by the next thought, "At best, 300, we've done better but for now it's a nice start."

Richie felt his eyes bug out and he was sure his sister's were the same way, he felt his bones weaken and they both quietly sank to the floor and moved away from the banister before they could be seen.

"We're back to square one," Richie told his sister, "We've got to get the hell out of here."

"We have to find a way," Richelle reminded him.

He looked at her and replied short temperedly, "I'll find a way out of here if I have to make it myself! Whoever it is they're planning to kill, there's no guarantee that gun ain't gonna get turned on us before this whole thing's over."


	8. Chapter 8

"One of the first signs of good architecture is that the windows have the ability to open up," Richelle told her brother as they tried to get a large window in the hall to budge, "Good architecture this is not."

"None of the windows we've tried open," Richie said, "I wonder what happens if the house catches on fire."

"Probably fireproof," Richelle replied as she looked up, "The things people come up with these days, and at the right price…"

Richie followed her gaze and saw what she was looking at; the stairs leading up to the third floor, they hadn't been up there yet. They had no idea what would be there but they decided they didn't have anything to lose; cautiously they crept up the second staircase and kept an eye out for booby traps or anything else that could jump out and kill them. They made it to the top and saw that the hallway was dark; they went up and found a short series of doors to the left and right, they picked the first room and went in. Richie felt along the wall and found the light switch; the lights weren't bright but they could see their surroundings at least.

"Whoa," Richelle said, and Richie turned and saw why.

The room was filled with various sets of armor from different time periods of history; different sets of steel plates, chain mail, and the oldest looking ones were a mix of bronze and leather. Also around the room was a variety of weapons that also looked like relics saved from days long past.

"Holy crap," Richie said as he looked around in awe, "What do you think all this is?"

"It's theirs," Richelle told him, "Four suits of every kind, when we said they were old as dirt we weren't just throwing knives in the dark."

"Come on," Richie pulled on her arm, "Let's get out of here, I don't like the look of this place."

They went back to the hall and tried the next door. When the lights were turned on, Richelle made a weird face and said, "This looks like a ground floor tool shed, what the hell?"

The room was filled with old saws, hammers, jars of nails and screws, nuts and bolts, a couple of sledgehammers, a few old but sharp sickles, and a variety of equally sharpened trowels, hoes with scythe shaped blades, machetes, and a few old cans of kerosene. Richie looked around at everything trying to figure out what the hell it was doing there, and Richelle made a small sound of intrigue and commented, "Ah, a torture chamber, how appropriate."

"What do you think they have all this stuff up here for?" Richie asked.

"Hell if I know, but it does give me an idea," she replied as she inched over to one of the sledgehammers.

"Yeah well come on," Richie told her, "I don't like this place, it gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, I can see that," Richelle agreed as she got another glance around the room, "I'm starting to feel a little like a flower in the attic myself."

* * *

><p>The twins returned to the first floor and once there, they started going over every square inch to look for anything that might be of some use for them to make their escape. Richie found that in the dining room there was a closet that locked from the outside and it was locked by a very large bolt that slid into a ring that once in place; he figured out, made it just about impossible to get the door open without tearing it down.<p>

"I hope they don't plan to stick us in there," he said.

"Just stay cool," Richelle told him, "Just keep your eyes peeled for them."

"Why? What're we going to do?" he asked.

"You know Richie, it seems to me we're overlooking something very crucial here," his sister said, "We're at a disadvantage because we can't sense Immortals like other Immortals can…but! If you think about it, they're at a greater disadvantage because they can't sense us, so they'd have no idea where we were at any time."

"So what does it mean?" Richie asked.

"I've got an idea," she told him.

"Oh God," was Richie's reply, "Not another one of your ideas."

"Hey, I'm not the one that got us into this," she reminded him, "But I _am_ going to be the one who gets us out of it."

"How?" he asked.

They heard somebody coming and she murmured to him, "Just go along with it."

It was Caspian who had entered the room; when he saw them he stopped in his tracks and looked at them like a wild animal sizing up its prey. Richie stayed by Richelle and hoped he didn't look like he felt; Richelle though had the nerve to look annoyed by his presence, as though she was daring him to do something.

"Who let you out of your cage?" she asked him.

"Very funny," he dryly responded.

"Where're the others?" Richelle asked.

"That's none of your business," he answered.

Richelle shrugged and turned to look at Richie and she made a gesture as she inched away; he didn't have any idea where she was going or what she planned to do, but he knew it wouldn't be good. He tried to think of what to do to stall for time, but nothing came to him; though it didn't seem to matter because almost as quickly as she had disappeared, Richelle reappeared behind Caspian and she was wielding one of the sledgehammers from the attic. Coming up behind him she swung the hammer over her head and brought it crashing down on Caspian's skull.

Richie wanted to throw up when he heard the sickening crunch of Caspian's skull against the sledgehammer; his body jerked and convulsed briefly for a few seconds before death took him. Richie looked to his sister at a complete loss of what to say or even to think, she put the hammer down and enlisted his help to move the body into the closet and lock him in. Richie would swear he was losing his mind; but against his better judgment he helped her, together they carried the body over to the closet and shut the door behind him and Richelle pushed the bolt into place.

"Unbelievable," was the only word that came to Richie's mind.

"That's not going to hold him for long," Richelle told him, "We've got to get out of here, come on."

They ran over to one of the larger windows that would be easier to jump through if it would open, or break. There were no latches to open it up so Richelle grabbed a metal object off the table that was shaped like a brick but felt twice as heavy. She started to give it a windup but her arm went limp when she felt somebody behind her grab the weight; she turned around and saw it was Kronos and he did not look pleased. Richie stood by the window and froze in horror when he saw the man, now what were they going to do?

Richelle handed him the weight and without a word slowly sank down to her knees and pressed her hands together and bowed her head and said lowly, "Dear God…please bless my mother and my father…and my teddy bear."

Before the last syllable was out of her mouth, Richelle swung her head back and hit Kronos in the groin and he fell backwards and hit the ground. With a record breaking speed, Richelle reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun and shot him with it; one shot through the heart and he died almost immediately. Richelle had gotten to her feet just as Silas had stormed into the room in response to the noise, Richelle let off two more rounds and he dropped as well.

Richie grabbed Richelle by the arm and they ran out of there and up the stairs to gain some distance between themselves and the Immortals. On the way, Richie grabbed the sledge hammer Richelle had used to brain Caspian; once they got to the second floor, Richie swung it and smashed one of the windows, glass went flying everywhere and large shards of it dropped to the ground outside like melting icicles falling off the roof. Richie looked out to see how far they had to drop, and what they would drop on, when he felt somebody push him out and he quickly found out how fast it took to drop 20 feet and hit the hard ground. He quickly got up, not yet realizing how much pain he was in, and he saw Richelle standing at the window and she called down to him, "Richie, get home! I'll hold them off!"

He knew he should stay and help her to escape as well, but he also knew it wouldn't be long before they recovered and then they could both be trapped. If he could get back to the shop he could get help, or if he could even find his way back into the city limits he could call Mac; so against his better judgment, he took off running, once he'd gotten about three blocks from the house he couldn't be sure but all the same he would've sworn that he heard more gunshots.

* * *

><p>Richie made it all the way to the waterfront before his body gave out on him; his ankle and knee hurt from the fall, his chest and ribs were killing him from running and he felt like somebody had pulled a plug in his lungs and he couldn't get any air in. He didn't know how far from the house he'd gotten, or how close he was to being home yet; nothing stuck out as being familiar to him yet. He collapsed on the bridge overlooking the river and was trying to catch his breath before he tried pulling himself up to continue onward. He'd been shut up indoors for so long, the chilly November air was like ice water in his blood and the warm sun was like a breath of heaven; his eyes still had trouble adjusting to the sudden brightness of everything, remembering being inside that house was like being in a dungeon, he thought.<p>

"Richie!"

He sprang up when he heard his name.

"Richelle!"

He was surprised, she was still alive. She ran over to him and stopped and tried to catch her breath.

"What happened?" he asked as he stood up.

"I shot them, what else?" she asked, "How far do you think we are from the shop?"

"I don't know," Richie said, and pointed to the river, "I figure if we follow the river far enough we should get back to our part of the city, or at least back to someplace with people. I haven't seen anybody around since I got out."

"Neither have I," his sister told him.

They heard a noise from behind and they saw that Silas and Caspian had caught up with them; the two men charged at them and Richie and his sister were paralyzed by shock and disbelief and fear, they finally moved at the last second, causing Caspian and Silas to fall off the edge of the bridge and plummet into the water below.

"Bad diving form," Richelle told her brother, "They didn't keep their feet together, let's get out of here."

They turned to run and saw that Kronos and Methos had followed after their brothers and were almost on top of them. The twins turned around and jumped off the bridge as well; they broke their fall by landing on top of Caspian and Silas who had just started to surface in the water, knocking them back under, and they took off swimming for their lives.

The river was like landing in a glass of ice water and Richie's whole body was freezing and started to go numb; but he swam as fast and as hard as he could, though he was sure he'd succumb to hypothermia and drown before it made much difference. Richelle was a few feet ahead of him and she swam like Jaws was chasing her, a close second, Kronos was following right behind her. She had him chasing her for about 30 feet out into the water before he finally snatched her and started to drag her back; she started kicking and struggling and yelling at him and tried to break loose, but it was to no avail, and Richie had met with a similar fate with Methos. As Richelle felt herself get jerked back by the neck, only one thought ran through her mind before everything suddenly went black:

_And the road leads to nowhere…_

* * *

><p>Richie and Richelle both woke up when they felt themselves being dropped on a hard surface. They realized they'd been thrown into the back of the van again and they saw Caspian and Silas hovering over them. Richelle laid her head back and closed her eyes momentarily when she suddenly felt somebody grab her and trying to rip her clothes off; she opened her eyes and her hands immediately reached up and grabbed Caspian by the neck and choked him, Caspian hit her in response and she fell back and stopped struggling. Caspian removed her shoes, jeans and T-shirt and threw them off to the side in a pile; Richie likewise had succumbed to unconsciousness and also been stripped down to his underwear when Kronos told the others, "That's enough."<p>

Methos sat in the driver's seat and watched through the rear view mirror as the teenagers were wrapped up in black sheets and he commented to Kronos, "You have to hand it to them, they have survival in their blood."

"And the capacity to kill," Kronos added, "The girl anyway, the boy I'm not too sure about."

"I wouldn't recommend testing him on it, I don't think you'll like the outcome," Methos told him as he drove them out of there and headed back for the house.

Once they returned, Silas and Caspian opened the doors in the back and started to haul the two unconscious teenagers out, but Methos and Kronos took them instead and carried them into the house and up the stairs.

"Why is it you get sleeping beauty and I'm stuck with Dopey?" Methos asked as he carried Richie up to the second floor.

"At least he's lighter," Kronos replied sarcastically as he dropped Richelle on the bed with a pronounced 'oomph', "We'll leave them in here for the time being, in the meantime Silas and Caspian are replacing that window they broke, the last thing we need is for them to try that stunt again."

"You should've had them take away all their clothes, and believe me they wouldn't try it again," Methos said as he pulled the wet blankets off of them, "Although I suppose this is a close second. What I can't figure out is what got into them."

Kronos pulled the bedcovers up on them and responded, "I don't know, but I'm starting to wonder if Silas and Caspian didn't have the right idea of chaining them to the wall."

"Really, Kronos," Methos dryly remarked, "You don't mean to say two teenagers are too much of a match for you."

"You got shot today too, brother, don't forget that," Kronos told him.

"I know that," Methos said, "But it was _your_ gun she stole…how?"

"I think we underestimated them," Kronos answered.

* * *

><p>Richelle woke up cold, she saw she was loosely covered by a bed sheet and was dressed in only her underwear and she shot up in bed and tried to figure out what had happened. Richie was on the other side of the bed tangled in the covers and was still dead to the world; Richelle got out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her body like a robe and walked out of the room. She couldn't see anyone and she couldn't hear anyone talking either, she went over to the banister and looked down to the first floor and saw no one, so she backed up and went into Methos' room. She didn't know why she'd gone in there, but something told her she'd find something important in there.<p>

The room didn't look like it had been touched since she and Richie had left it; everything was still where they'd moved it. She went over to the computer and started looking over the CD games and she found again the one with the weird picture on the disc: thirteen purple dots in a circle with a Y in the center; she didn't have any idea what the hell it was but a nagging feeling inside of her told her it was worth taking a look at. So she ejected the King's Quest disc and put that one in and waited to see what the computer came up with. She was surprised to say the least when it finally popped up and she realized what it was.

"Oh—my—God."

The top of the screen said WATCHER CHRONICLES, and as she scrolled down she saw a list of names that she quickly realized were all Immortals; and by clicking on each name she could find a recent report somebody had made about each Immortal, complete with their picture, detailing where they went, who they met, who they fought, who they killed, etc. Each Immortal had files on them going back several years and as the years spread out the reports were made by different people. Richelle scrolled through it, checking alphabetically, and came to Connor's name and found he was no exception; the file opened with a picture of him, listing his birth year as 1518, his age as 475, the year he became Immortal, the Immortals he had killed, and his current location in New York. There were also long reports made about him and his everyday, otherwise mundane life; but oddly enough there wasn't any mention of her in the articles.

Duncan's file was right under Connor's so Richelle decided to see what they had to say about him. Birth year: 1592, age: 401, a long list of challenges and heads taken, also a long list of all the women he had been involved with through time. It finally concluded with him residing in Seacouver with Tessa Noel, both co-owning the antique shop, and Richelle was quick to notice there were also reports involving Richie going all the way back to August of the last year, when he first broke in on them. She scratched her head and went back to the files on Connor, going back to October of last year when he caught her; not a single word about her in any of the files, but Richie was mentioned almost daily in the reports on Duncan.

Richelle found a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled down the name of the man whose name was on the recent reports of Connor, she would have to contact him and tell him about these people. She wasn't sure what he could do, or if there was anything anybody could do, but he had to know he had a second bull's eye on his back in addition to the one he was born with.

Another idea came to Richelle and she got up the latest report on Connor and tried to alter it or to delete it; but she quickly hit a wall when it asked for ID to make any edits. She got off a couple of choice words before she killed off the program and got up from the computer and headed for the door. Before she went out though, she realized the seriousness of the situation did not well suit the ridiculousness of her current appearance and she stole a set of clothes out of Methos' closet before she stormed out of the room and went back across the hall to get Richie. Unfortunately she found that her brother was still dead to the world and she knew even if she managed to find another way out of the house there was no way she could carry him all the way. That was just as well she supposed since she knew if the positions were reversed he wouldn't have a prayer of hauling her out either.

So it was back to the drawing board. Richelle kept her ear to the door and when met with the silence, she left the room and quietly crept downstairs and looked around for the Immortals; they were nowhere to be found and she was thankful for that. Looking around, Richelle noticed there was something different about the contents on the dining room table; there was a large yellow hardback book on the edge that hadn't been there before. Entering the dining room she went over to the table and read the title, "The Living Bible." She shrugged and reached for the top flap to open it up and see what was in it, when she heard a voice from behind shout, "Don't touch that!"

But it was too late, just as she felt Methos tackle her to the ground she felt the warmth of the flames from the explosion and heard the BOOM just before her right ear closed and the sound was drowned out. She hit the floor and felt like she'd been knocked out of her body and was in a state between life and death; as though she should've been up on the ceiling looking at herself. Slowly she became aware of the fading smoke and the sound of other people coming into the room. Somebody grabbed her and was pulling her up and she heard Methos ask, "Are you alright, kid?" She turned and saw all four monkeys were in the room together. She took a step towards them and opened her mouth to talk but she stumbled and when she looked down she saw blood was pouring out of her mouth.

"What the hell is going on in this nuthouse?" she demanded to know as she regained her footing, "What…" her vision blurred and she started to fall again but Methos caught her.

"I don't believe it," Kronos said, he turned to Caspian and asked him, "What kind of a bomb was that supposed to be?"

"It wasn't finished yet," he replied, "Why did she open it?"

Richelle was somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness when she felt somebody slapping her cheek so she slapped back, and harder. Opening her eyes, she saw it was Methos, she got up and tried to get away but Methos grabbed her back and restrained her and told her to calm down. She kicked him repeatedly and managed to break away and spouted, "Only found out a couple of months ago that MacLeod was alive, eh? Why did you really bring us out here?"

"What're you talking about?" Methos asked.

"Guns, bombs, that whole damn Watcher program on the computer file upstairs!" Richelle pointed to the stairs, "With the names and locations of every Immortal in existence!"

Methos looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere, Richelle could hear Kronos muttering to him, "I told you…" but Methos cut him off and said to her, "This is the part that's not as easy to explain."

"Well?" she replied, "I'm listening, like I said before, if I'm going to get killed, I want answers first."

Methos seemed to smirk and got out a small laugh as he ran his hand over his eyes and let out an exasperated huff and said, "You're nothing if not persistent…how much of the Chronicles did you see?"

"Enough," she replied, "Why the hell are you spying on the other Immortals?"

He shook his head, "It isn't me, it's the mortals, they started the organization, I'm just an honorary member."

"What?" Richelle asked.

"I know the rule is mortals aren't supposed to know we exist, but they do," Methos said, "They're not as stupid as our kind has credited them as being. For whatever reason, some mortals have made it their life's work to record every detail of the Immortals' lives."

"But the Immortals don't have any idea they're being spied on," Richelle said, "What do they do with the information?"

Methos shook his head and said, "Nothing."

"What?" Richelle asked.

"They have a code, never interfere," Methos said, "All the records are being put away until all Immortals have killed themselves off."

"For what purpose?" Richelle asked, "What the hell good does it do _anybody_ to write this stuff down and stash it away like a time capsule for 500 years?"

"That's what I said 800 years ago, that's the only part they haven't figured out yet," Kronos interrupted, "They're like scientists, too busy trying to prove they can do something without bothering to answer if and why they should."

"Be quiet," Methos told him.

"What was the bomb set for then?" Richelle asked, "If it's don't interfere, what the hell was that about?"

"There's no rule saying _we_ can't interfere with _them_," Methos said, "Besides, it wasn't the Watchers we were going to use that on, or even another Immortal…it's the Hunters."

"What's that?" Richelle asked.

"That's why we had so much trouble getting you and your brother here in the first place," Methos told her, "All of a sudden being Immortal is more dangerous than it already was. Several members of the Watchers have gone rogue and they're killing Immortals without provocation."

"Holy crap," Richelle laughed nervously, "I was right."

The others looked at her suspiciously and Kronos asked, "Right about what?"

"I told Richie we had the advantage because you couldn't sense us, and it would seem the Hunters came to the same conclusion."

Methos continued with his explanation as though he hadn't heard her, "Since the Hunters are using the Watchers as their cover, there's a fine line drawn between the two and if we're not careful, it could lead to an all-out war between the Immortals and the Watchers, when the reality is most of them are as harmless as mortals come…" Methos cut Kronos off as he opened his mouth, "I know, which isn't much, but still…"

"So you're hunting the Hunters, is that it?" Richelle asked.

"Smart girl," he remarked, appearing mildly amused at her ability to keep up, "You see we're at a bit of an advantage over the others…or rather I do." He pulled up his sleeve and revealed a tattoo on his wrist, the same as the picture on the CD, "This is how Watchers identify themselves to one another, but it's not exactly written in blood. The Watchers have an oath of loyalty to one another so they would never admit that one of their own was murdering Immortals, but I don't have to be loyal to anybody about anything. They have no idea that someone within their own organization is setting them up for a deadly trap; that's how we found out who were the real Watchers and who were the Hunters, and that's our target."

"You were going to blow them up," Richelle said, "Well it's not very original but if it works…but why should I believe you? Other than the fact that I don't have much choice?"

Methos seemed surprised by that question; he and Kronos exchanged a few words too low for her to hear, and then finally Methos looked back to her and said, "Would you care to see it for yourself?"

In spite of the anxiety that was coursing through her veins, she found herself smiling sinisterly as she responded, "Invitation to a massacre, why not? But what about Richie?"

"I doubt he's as much a skeptic as you are but we'll bring him along as well just to make sure nothing goes wrong," Methos told her.

"At least it'll get us out of the house. What did you have in mind?" she asked.


	9. Chapter 9

Methos scanned through the contents of his closet and took out two jackets as he told his brother, "You know, Kronos, it seems to me that for all we foresaw for this plan, we could've stood to be somewhat better prepared than we were."

"I think everything's coming along just fine," Kronos replied.

"Perhaps," Methos said, "But from a hygienic point of view, we could've planned better than this."

He took the jackets and walked out of the bedroom and out to the living room where the twins were waiting; he held the jackets out to them and told them, "This should do for tonight, it hasn't gotten particularly cold yet."

They each grabbed one, Richie snagged the brown leather jacket and Richelle took a heavy denim jacket with a leather collar and they followed Methos and his brothers out of the house and out into the night. Methos told them to get into the car, to which Richie asked, "In the front or back?"

"Oh just to keep it interesting, the back," Methos told them.

"I saw that one coming," Richelle said.

They got in one car and saw the other three Immortals get in another and they took off into the night.

"Where're we going?" Richelle asked as she sat up on her knees and leaned over to the front.

"You'll see when we get there," Methos responded.

Richelle sat back down and looked over at her brother and from the looks on their faces, both were coming to the same conclusion that this was not going to end well.

They didn't know how long they drove around, though Richie guessed half an hour, and then suddenly they stopped and the headlights hit on a sign posted on an iron gate: St. Jerome Cemetery.

"Why did we come here?" Richie whispered to his sister.

"Holy ground protects Immortals," she reminded him, "Not us."

Richie felt a knot in his throat he suddenly couldn't swallow.

They got out of the car and saw the others had followed behind them, so they knew there would be little chance to escape if things went awry. Methos pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shone it on the graves up ahead, and Richie and his sister found themselves being marched ahead to see.

"This cemetery is broken up into three groups," Methos explained, "The Watchers and the Hunters killed by Immortals, and the Immortals killed by the Hunters. These graves are the Watchers running from here over to the center of the graveyard, the graves on the other half are the Watchers."

"What about the Immortals?" Richelle asked.

Methos gestured for them to follow him and he led them over to a tool shed at the far side of the cemetery.

"You pile them up in here?" Richie asked.

"Shut up," Kronos told him.

They entered the tool shed and Methos shone the light on the ground so they could see that there was a set of storm doors built into the ground. Kronos opened the doors up and one by one they walked down a long set of stairs underground.

"Where're we going?" Richie whispered to his sister, who only shrugged in response.

They came to the bottom and walked through a corridor and came to an underground mausoleum that was full of tombs. Richie and Richelle felt their hair stand up and they clung to one another as they walked further in.

"This is where the Immortals who are killed by the Hunters are buried," Methos said, "The Watchers agree they deserve a burial but they don't consider the Immortals to be good enough to be buried alongside their fallen brethren so we had to improvise. Personally, I'd like to stick all of them down here and take these ones upstairs, it would be more suiting."

Richie and his sister looked around at all the tombs and counted about 30.

"How many are buried upstairs?" Richelle asked.

"Roughly 50," Kronos answered, "Our kind tends to bite back harder."

"So who's responsible?" Richelle asked, "Who's the man behind the mask that started this whole thing?"

"That goes back about as long as the history of the world," Kronos said, "But the one currently in position is a man by the name of Horton."

They went back to the corridor but the twins saw there was a second path leading out, and that was the way they went this time. They walked through a long dark tunnel before coming to a different set of stairs.

"Where're we going now?" Richelle asked.

"You'll find out when we get there," Methos answered as they climbed the steps.

When they reached the top of the stairs they found themselves, not back in the old tool shed, but in the middle of a rickety old dark house. The twins went to the window and saw they were just beyond the cemetery.

"You guys would make great moles," Richelle commented.

Methos turned on an overhead lamp so they could get a better look at their surroundings. It looked like some kind of cabin, and looked like it hadn't seen regular use for at least 20 years. Methos called them over to the table in the center of the room and when they did, he pulled some photographs out of a drawer and showed them to the kids.

"These are some of the men Horton has under his command," he explained, "I'm sure he has them do more of the killings than he actually does, but I know him well enough to know he'll revel in few murders here and there. He, like a lot of people who know about Immortals, consider our kind to be some sort of abomination."

"And he's the new Hitler setting the wheels in place for a perfect master race," Richelle guessed.

"It would seem so," Methos took out another photograph, "And here's the man of the hour himself, should it ever come up in the future."

Richie and Richelle looked at the picture and saw a man who looked to be somewhere between his 40s and 50s with short light hair, there really wasn't much memorable about him.

"This is James Horton," Methos said, "He's currently the ringleader of the Hunters…you were quite right, we're at a disadvantage with mortals and that ironically enough makes a lot of our kind quite vulnerable when they come hunting."

"Very easy," Richelle commented, "Shoot them, while they're down, take their head…though really more Immortals should operate under the same strategy, it would make things much easier."

They couldn't see it, but Kronos looked over her head and over towards Methos with a face that just screamed 'see? What did I tell you?' Methos said nothing and just turned away.

"Has anybody figured it out yet?" Richelle asked Methos, "About your hiding in the Watchers?"

"Not yet, we've been fortunate there," he answered.

"So what was that idea you had about bombing them?" Richie asked, "How do you plan to get that many Hunters in one place, without getting any Watchers caught in the crossfire?"

"We have our ways," Methos said.

"In other words, they're not going to tell us," his sister told him, to which Richie only nodded in agreement.

"They're just like MacLeod," Richelle said, "They think we're too stupid to understand it."

"Quite the opposite," Methos told her, "We've risked our own necks every time we do this, we can't afford to have anything go wrong now."

"Then why bring us into the middle of all this?" Richelle asked.

"Because," Methos explained, "Being Immortal, or associated with one, is becoming more dangerous all the time, especially for the likes of MacLeod because he doesn't know about the Watchers, so, he'd have no way of anticipating what Horton and his men could be capable of."

"In other words you're saying we're safer with you and the 3 Stooges than with Mac, or Connor?" Richie asked.

"Exactly," Methos said.

Richelle rolled her eyes and wandered over towards the window and looked out, even in the dark she was able to make out something in the corner of her eye that gave her a start. She ran back over to the table and grabbed Kronos by the arm and tried to pull him over to the window.

"What's the matter with you?"

She raised her hand to her lips and gestured for him to shut up and she pointed over towards the window. The others looked out but saw nothing, but they arrived at the conclusion that that meant whoever was there was already in the house. They went over to the door where Richelle, being among the lightest, crept over to it to listen. She confirmed their suspicions by nodding her head and, taking a step back, kicked the door open in the face of the unsuspecting man on the other side of it. The man let out a yell of pain and while he was distracted, Richelle pounced on him while the others followed out and somebody hit the lights.

Richelle grabbed the man by the front of his jacket and pulled him up so they could get a look at him; he looked about 30, was of medium build and had short light hair, and he looked like the rug had just been pulled out from under his feet.

"Roll up his sleeves," Methos said as they closed in on him.

As he had figured, the man wore the Watchers tattoo, which only left one question of whose side was he on? Methos relieved Richelle of her job of restraining the man and hauled him to his feet and kept his hands just mere inches from the young man's throat and demanded to know who he was, why he was there, and who he had brought with him. The Watcher denied everything but Methos throttled him and bashed him against the wall when he didn't get the right answers. Richie was somewhere between petrified and amused at what he was seeing, but his attention was drawn to his sister who sneaked out the door when no one was looking, and he followed after her and found they were returning to the graveyard.

"Richelle, what're you doing?" he asked.

"I doubt that that guy's here alone, he probably brought his friends with him!" she told him, "And if that's true, we have to find the others."

"How?" Richie asked.

Richelle gestured to the tombstones surrounding them and said bluntly, "Look for anybody out for a walk in this place!" Then, more to herself than him she commented, "Oh boy what a time not to have an open grave we can throw them in and cover them up."

They took off in different directions and under the cover of darkness, crept around the cemetery and watched for anybody who wasn't supposed to be there. Richie felt ridiculous crawling around behind gravestones and felt like he was trying to find a needle in a haystack. It didn't take more than a few minutes before he crossed paths with his sister again and they collided like two trains on the same track.

"Find anyone?" he asked.

"No," she sharply replied, and added, "Watchers, Hunters, people with long swords cutting off each other's heads and they live for thousands of years, assassins, bomb makers," she shook her head and told him as she resumed crawling, "Batman never had to put up with anything as ridiculous as this and that is _no small feat!_"

After she said it, she was blinded in one eye by a sudden flash of light, she closed her eyes and upon opening them again saw it was coming from the headlight of a car; a black car outside the cemetery that four people were getting out of.

"Oh boy," she whispered, and moved behind one of the stones and waited to see what would happen next.

Richie had seen the same thing and likewise was crouched down behind a large tomb and tried not to breathe so they wouldn't hear him, and he could hear what they were saying. The voices were muffled but it sounded like they were all men, and they all sounded a little too pleased to be coming out to a cemetery in the middle of the night.

Richelle heard the footsteps approaching her first, she watched as three people passed by without ever looking down and seeing her, there was still one to come, but where was he? She looked over the tombstone and saw the problem; that Watcher had found Methos' car and was looking it over, as if checking to see if anyone was inside. Now what? She got up and went over to the man and jumped on the man's back. Her added weight threw him off balance and they both fell backwards, Richelle hit the ground first but she maintained a hold on the man and their current position gave her a perfect shot at his ribs which she slammed her feet against repeatedly, like a mule kicking. Richie saw this, and decided while his sister had the first man incapacitated, he was going to make sure the other three couldn't make a quick getaway. He'd found a sharp trowel by the tool shed and crawled along the ground towards the car and was about to plunge it into the front tire when he heard footsteps behind him.

Richie turned over and saw a man standing behind him and he had a gun drawn on him. Richie let go of the trowel and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and he slowly stood up and; acting on a blind impulse he decided to try something, he charged the man, tightly locked the man in a bear hug and threw himself back against the ground and flipped the man over him. Richie rolled back onto the man and put him in a headlock, emphasizing a tight squeeze on the man's neck. From somewhere else he could hear gunfire and he would've sworn a bullet zoomed right past his head, but he didn't pay much attention to it.

Richelle was rolling around on the ground with the man she'd caught as he struggled and tried to break loose; she kept one arm locked around his neck and kept her legs as tightly dug into his own body as was possible. Another shot rang out and she felt this one in her arm and she dropped to the ground with the Watcher on top of her and he broke loose. Richelle rolled on her side and moaned as she grabbed at her arm, and the next thing she heard was another gunshot and she saw the Watcher fall to the ground. She looked in the direction the shot had come from and saw Methos approaching her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think I've been shot," she said as she pushed herself up on her good arm, and repeated as she went over to him, "I think I've been shot."

In one move Methos flung the jacket off of her and grabbed her arm to examine it; even in the dark he seemed able to diagnose the problem, and, seeming a bit relieved he told her, "It's only grazed here, you had a narrow escape."

"Don't I know it?" she replied, "Where's the rest of the goon squad?"

As if in answer, she saw Caspian and Kronos come out of nowhere and also over to them.

"What happened here?" Kronos asked nonchalantly as he looked at the dead man on the ground.

"He tripped," Richelle answered dryly, "Where have you been?"

"How many were there?" Kronos asked.

"Four," she answered, "Did you find the other two?"

"We did," Methos answered, "We'll be needing three more graves tonight."

"Four," Richelle said, "Richie had another one…" then it hit her and she looked around the graveyard, "Where _is_ Richie?"

Methos and Kronos turned and looked back. The cemetery was almost pitch dark but they didn't seem to have any problem seeing anything in the vicinity. They walked through the rows and looked around, Methos finally took a flashlight out of his coat and in swaying the light from one side of the graveyard to the other, he found an open grave; as he inched closer to it he shone the light down into it and got his answer. Richie was in the grave, his back pressed against the hard wall of dirt and he had his arms tight against his chest and looked miserable.

"Richie! What the hell are you doing down there?" Richelle asked as they approached the grave.

He looked up and saw the blinding light, and looking past it he could see their outlines above, and he replied, "Why do you always ask such stupid questions? I fell in!"

"Well why didn't you climb out?" she asked. It was then that she noticed he had one leg pulled in and was holding onto his foot.

"Well for one thing I can't get up, I think I broke my ankle," he said, "And for another, it's too deep!"

It didn't make sense to Richelle but Methos was already tossing his flashlight over to Caspian and climbed down into the grave himself. He helped Richie to his feet and Richelle saw that both men were a couple feet short of being able to just pull themselves up out of the grave, which didn't make any sense because the standard depth was six feet. Methos had Richie stand with his legs spread apart and his hands pressed against the dirt, Methos grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up so the others could grab him and pull him out. Then he reached up and pulled himself out, but not without some difficulty as the earth was loose and threatened to fall in with him.

"What is that?" Richelle asked as she pointed to the grave, "Why is it so deep?" She looked from Methos to Kronos and back to Methos and said, "They bury them in at six feet deep, not eight or nine, why is it deeper? Who is it for?"

Methos shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea."

Richie fell on the ground and Methos took that opportunity to examine his ankle, after a few minutes he concluded with, "It's not broken and there doesn't seem to be any swelling, you probably just twisted it when you fell in."

"But what happened to the guy you were with?" Richelle asked her brother, "Where'd he go?"

"He got away," Richie answered. He looked back to where the car was and noticed that it was still there, "He couldn't have gotten far if he's on foot."

Kronos turned to Methos and said something into his ear, Methos nodded and took the twins with him and headed toward the gate.

"Where're we going?" Richelle asked.

"Back home," he answered, "I think the fireworks are over for the night."

Richelle leaned over towards her brother and asked him, "Didn't we come up here on a hill?"

Richie nodded and asked, "Why?"

Richelle broke away from Methos and ran over towards the car that the Watchers had arrived in. Dumb luck maybe it was, but she found the keys on the dashboard and turned the engine over instantly and threw it into gear and stomped on the accelerator and grabbed the wheel. She could tell that the others were trying to stop her but she pressed the gas pedal against the floor and leaned back as everything zoomed by in a nauseating flash. She hit the headlights and saw she had gone long past the cemetery gates and was approaching the edge of the hill at a frightening speed; only to throw open the door and jump out just before the car went over the ledge. She heard the loud crash and saw the Immortals come running, along with her brother.

She didn't have time to explain as Kronos violently grabbed her and jerked her to her feet and proceeded to throttle her as he demanded to know, "What the hell was that about?"

Richelle grabbed at his hands and peeled his fingers back as she got out a strangled, "Let go, you're choking me!" She took a step back and told him, "That car had to go, you said it yourself the Watchers and the Hunters occupy this cemetery. If they came here and found the car here but couldn't find the owners anywhere, they'd know something was up. Now it's in a fiery heap at the bottom and if they do find it, they can't prove that their friends succumbed to foul play, and there's no way it could be tied to anybody else who was here tonight. It's called out of sight, out of mind, this may not solve anything but it'll delay an inevitable discovery."

"She has a point," Methos said, "And this way it should be just about impossible for the one remaining Watcher to get out of here."

"Oh shut up," Kronos told him, "Just get them out of here, get them back to the house, we'll finish up here!"

Richie leaned in to his sister and murmured to her, "Sheesh, he should find his mother, he needs a nap!"

Richelle smirked and nodded as they headed to the car and got in the back.

* * *

><p>Once they got back to the house, Methos was able to get a better look at Richelle's arm and Richie's foot and came to the same conclusions as before; they would be sore for a while but both would survive. The twins were tired and cold and wanted little more than to just go to sleep; they climbed the stairs and headed into the bathroom, which they'd found out early into their stay here, had a shower on one side of the room and a bathtub on the other. They shed their cold clothes and exhausted the hot water taps as they cleaned up for the night before turning in.<p>

In Methos' room they'd found a couple of long nightshirts in his dresser and decided they would do for the night. Richie was hardly able to keep his eyes open and he fell back on the bed and was about asleep already.

"I'm dead," he groaned.

"You wish," Richelle replied from the other side of the room.

Richie forced his eyes open and looked over at Richelle and saw she was rummaging through the contents on Methos' bookcase, "What're you doing?" he asked.

"I'm looking for something to read, what does it look like?" she asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Richie asked.

"I just want to find something unwinding to read before I go to sleep," she said as she knelt down and scoped out the bottom shelves, "Something light, calm, relaxing…ooh! The Stand!" she explained as she pulled a very large volume off the second shelf and hauled it over to the bed where she collapsed alongside her brother.

Richie stretched and groaned as he told her, "I'm with you, this is the weirdest experience of my life so far."

"Yes," Richelle replied as she threw the front cover open, "And I have a feeling it's going to get a _whole_ lot weirder before we get out of here…_if_ we get out of here."

Richie tiredly nodded his head, not really paying attention to what she was saying. It didn't take long for both of them to fall into a dead sleep; when Methos went to his room later in the night, he was taken aback when he stepped in the doorway and saw them in bed. He said nothing and only went over to pull the covers up on them, and he exited the room as quietly as he had arrived, and as a last minute detail he decided against turning off the lights and shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Richie and Richelle tossed and turned in the bed and made an inevitable collision with one another that woke them both up.<p>

"What time is it?" Richie asked.

Richelle picked up the clock by the bed and answered, "Six o' clock." And they were both wide awake.

They got out of the bed and threw the covers back on in place, much like how they made their own bed back home, and from there they tried to figure out what to do.

"Are you hungry yet?" she asked him.

Richie shook his head, "You?"

"My stomach's lousy again," she replied. Looking around the room she commented, "Who would think in a place like this, you could be bored?" There was a pause between them before she broke the silence by humorously adding, "Well, I could suck my thumb but all the flavor left that _long_ ago."

So instead, they looked over the contents of the room for something to play with to occupy their minds for the time being. Richelle leaned over a large metal crate and started pulling toys out at random, the first one was a big red ball, "No I don't wanna play with that," she said humorously as she tossed it to the other side of the room. Next was an old doll in a white dress, that too became airborne. After that she grabbed a black knight on a horse, and she threw that one for a forward pass as well. She leaned over the crate again and found something this time that she liked.

"Aha!"

"What?" Richie asked.

Richelle tilted back and got her feet on the ground and turned around to show him the toy bugle she had found.

"What're you going to do with that?" he asked.

"It's quiet, so they have to be asleep," she told him, "So, I'm going to wake them up."

It was then that something hit Richie. "If we were _here_ all night, where'd Methos go?"

Richelle thought about it and concluded, "Maybe they're in the war room."

"The what?" Richie asked.

She pointed, "It's a room up the hall where they all stay, come on, let's go see." She polished the bugle with her shirt and commented, "If I do it…I get a whooping," she coyly looked at her brother and added, "Of course I don't know why I'm thinking about it because I'm only gonna get a whooping anyway…oh well, once in a lifetime and all that."

Richie shook his head and followed her out of the bedroom and they headed up the hall and came to another door. It was unlocked and they went in and Richelle hit the lights and revealed the four Immortals asleep in three beds: Silas in one over to the window, Methos and Caspian in the middle, and Kronos right beside them, and miraculously none of them woke up. Richie's foot was still killing him so he stayed over by the window as Richelle tiptoed over between Methos and Kronos and, planting the business end of the horn right by Kronos' ear, she blew with all the air in her lungs. The noise was great and it got his attention; Kronos shot up in the bed kicking, and on the other side of Richelle, Methos and Caspian had also awakened to the noise and their response was a step further in that both jumped clear over the foot of the bed and landed in the middle of the floor and they took the covers with them. Silas was the only one who proved unaffected by the noise and was still dead to the world.

Kronos fell back against the pillows and glared up at Richelle through eyes only half open; from where Richie stood he noticed that his sister was slowly shifting her weight to the foot behind her, incase she had to cut and run suddenly. Instead, both twins breathed a sigh of relief when Kronos closed his eyes. But Richelle couldn't leave well enough alone, she went over to him and placed her thumb and forefinger above and below the lids of his right eye and pulled them open, then letting go. Kronos' other eye opened and he started to get up and he said in a low growl, "What did you do that for?"

"I wanted to see if you were still in there," she cynically replied.

"I wouldn't be if I didn't have to be," he told her, "Now go back to bed and shut up…" he started to lie back down but shot right up again when he added, "Or better yet, why don't you get in the bathtub and pull the water up over you?"

Richelle opened her mouth and closed it immediately and scowled at him, then turned to her brother and inched over towards him, still with the horn in hand. Then she turned towards Silas' bed and inhaled to try it again but Richie jerked her back and stole the bugle from her.

"Come on, Richelle, let's get out of here," he told her as he pulled her out.

"We should've killed those two when we had the chance," Caspian said from where he and Methos remained on the floor.

Methos turned and glared at him through half closed eyes and replied, "Oh shut up, Caspian! Come on." They got up, grabbed the covers and got back into bed.

Methos quickly settled in on his side, but when Caspian got in, he started to lie down, made a sudden noise like he'd been jabbed, and turned over to face Methos. "I knew something was poking me last night," he said, and he pulled out Methos' large Stripe Gremlin doll.

"Give me that," Methos said as he jerked it away from his brother.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," Kronos told him as he looked at him through one open eye, "A man your age sleeping with dolls." And on that note, Kronos in turn pulled the Gremlin away from Methos and kept it to himself. Methos turned and glared at him in disbelief.

"Cain was lucky in that he only had one brother to put up with, _and_ kill," he observed before falling back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Methos turned on his side and looked over at Kronos. The lights were still on in the room and he was too tired to get up and turn them off. "Hey Kronos, you asleep?"

"I _was_," he answered, "What is it?"

"I've got an idea," Methos started to say.

Kronos' response was something grumbled as he turned away and pulled a pillow over his head. Methos reached over and jerked the pillow away.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Come over here," Methos told him.

Kronos leaned as far over as he was willing and Methos told him his idea; after which Kronos' only response was to fall back against the pillows and go back to sleep. Methos reached over and poked him and asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"I think you're going to lose that finger if you don't stop that," his brother warned him, "Besides, they've already tried to escape before, and they seem to be improving with every chance. In a public place exactly _how_ would you make sure they didn't try again?"

Methos smirked as he rolled his eyes back, "Brother, you simply have to know how to handle children."

"And how would you plan to do that?" Kronos wanted to know.

Methos gave his answer directly into his brother's ear, and Kronos seemed pleased by the response.

* * *

><p>It was still dark outside an hour later when Richie and his sister went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Richelle found a small radio and turned the dials around until she found a rock station she liked.<p>

"One thing about it," she told her brother, "This place is a vast improvement over the last one, we've got everything here; radio, TV, newspapers, a phone that works, we've got every connection now to the outside world."

Richie said nothing and only nodded as he reached into the fridge and took out a pound of bacon and a stick of butter. Richelle went over to the cupboards and pulled down a large container of flour and dropped it on the table.

"But I'm still thinking there has to be a way to get out of here," Richie told her, "Some way we haven't thought of yet."

"Richie, the whole damn A-Team couldn't get us out of this one," Richelle said, "Everything we've tried so far, we get caught, even back at the apartment when it was just Heckle and Jeckle."

"Now don't tell me you're starting to give up already," Richie said to her.

"I didn't say that," she said, "I'm only saying to get out of this one, we're going to have to be smarter than before. Though I'm not sure it would be a good idea to go back just yet. If what they said is right and there is going to be a war between the Immortals and the Hunters, maybe we don't want to be a part of that. Maybe for that one I'd like to just sit back and watch MacLeod get his head handed to him."

"What about Connor?" Richie reminded her.

"Connor, right," she said, "I'll have to call him later and let him know."

She about tripped over a crate in the middle of the floor and she and her brother knew it hadn't been there the night before. Taking the lid off they saw it was a case of oranges. Richelle sorted through them and turned her nose up at most of them, "Pathetic."

"What's wrong with them?" he asked.

She pulled out one of the smaller ones and told him, "This is not an orange."

"It isn't?" he didn't get it.

"No," she threw it away and dug under the top oranges and pulled out one larger than most grapefruits, "Now _this_ is an orange."

They grabbed a few and put them on the table and Richelle found a large knife and cut them all in half and wrung the juice out of them by hand into a bowl. Richie looked at the oranges and remembered when he and Richelle had first met, the second day she and Connor had been there, Mac had made some remark to Richelle and she responded by pelting him with an orange in the back. And he had chased her around the loft with her screaming blue murder before she ducked behind Connor, the safest place to be when Mac was on the rampage. In the last few days he'd been thinking a lot about how things had been at home; at the time it all seemed crazy but now it was starting to hit him just how normal their lives had once been not too long ago.

Richelle peeled the lid off the flour and Richie watched as she dipped her hand in it and used it to flour the bottoms of her shoes; then she sprinkled some flour on the floor for good measure as well and he watched as she used it to spin around on the balls of her feet, and every time she spun around she took a step closer to the kitchen door, which opened on her as Methos stepped in. She stepped out from behind the door with a murderous glare in her eyes as she came up to Methos and asked, "What the hell was that for?" And he looked like he had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

"If I were you," he said, "I'd get away from there before the others come in."

Richelle stepped over to the door and pushed it open and saw Kronos and Caspian coming their way. She looked back to Richie and told him, "Here comes Stripe and Mohawk now."

Richie grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her back towards him; he was still leery about the stunt she'd pulled earlier and wouldn't put it past them to try and kill them now. He wasn't quite ready to believe that they could trust these people; sure last night he'd been convinced that they were telling the truth about the Hunters, but that didn't mean much where he was concerned. And maybe his sister was dumb enough to get them both or at least herself killed, but he was determined to find a way out of this nuthouse yet.

No words were exchanged between the twins and the Immortals; Richie noticed it and he thought about how oddly it seemed, it was almost as though they had always done this. He wanted to puke every time he allowed himself to think about it but he was slowly coming to the realization that this form of going through the motions they were becoming familiar with, it was almost like back home: everybody knew everyone else's movements and knew when to get in and stay out of the way, and when to speak and when to be quiet. He kept reminding himself that this was only temporary, that they would get out of here and get back to Mac and Tessa and Connor, but with every passing day that they stayed with these people he couldn't help but wonder _how_ they were ever going to get away. Once Kronos and Caspian had passed by them, he kept hold of his sister and pulled her out to the living room and away from them for the moment.

However, he quickly found they weren't going to have a minute to themselves because Methos was right behind them. He came up to them and told them that they were going to go with him into town to get a few things.

"Like what?" Richie asked, a bit defensively.

"For one thing," Methos replied, calmly but sounding like he could snap at any minute, "I think we could stand to get you two some other clothes, especially since you'll be staying here for quite a while."

"Where're we going?" Richelle asked.

"Never mind that," Methos told her as he gripped her jaw with his hand, "Just keep in mind that when we leave, if you try _anything_ funny…"

Richelle knocked his hand away and stood with her fists on her hips and looked up at him, "What're you going to do, Scarecrow?"

"Not me," he shook his head, "I'm sure you'd both jump at the chance to try and get away, that's why Caspian's going to follow behind us, and if either of you tries to get away," he pressed the nail of his thumb against Richie's temple, "He'll put a bullet in your skull, understand?"

"Perfectly," Richelle answered. She looked over to her brother and Methos couldn't see the expression on her face, but Richie could, and he could see she didn't think he was serious. But Richie wasn't so sure, and he didn't feel like taking any chances.

* * *

><p>It was cloudy that day and looked like it might rain; it would have to be rain, it almost never snowed in Seacouver, even though they were getting very close to winter. Richie and Richelle stayed in the backseat of the car and didn't say anything as they saw civilization again; buildings, traffic, people, everything they'd been shut away from for days. Richelle looked out at the yellow and orange in the clouds as the sun tried to poke through over the tops of the high rises; Richie looked at the people they passed and tried to find somebody, anybody that he recognized, but there were none.<p>

Of course they knew it didn't matter where they went; they knew nobody was looking for them. MacLeod had been given orders not to report their disappearances to the police and they knew that no cop was wasting his time looking for either of them. They didn't have to worry about being recognized by anybody; but all the same they found themselves being taken to a small thrift shop in one of the lesser populated parts of town, a small store where there weren't any surveillance cameras and they could tell nobody asked any questions and everybody minded their own business. Even if they _did_ dare tell anybody they'd been kidnapped, they doubted anybody would pay any attention to them.

Richie saw Richelle blindly grabbing clothes off the racks that were their sizes and when Methos wasn't watching, he kicked her and whispered into her ear to go slower, because they weren't in any hurry to go back to the house. Richelle shook her head and whispered in response that she hurried incase someone else showed up and they had to get out of there quickly. She dropped the clothes in a pile against the wall and went around to the back of the store to see what else she could find; and upon looking around; she came to a startling realization of just how close to home they were. She reached around the corner, grabbed Richie's arm and dragged him around to where the books and games and other various assorted items were kept.

"This is the place Connor brought us to last year," she said, "When we first came out here to meet you guys."

Richie remembered, he remembered the games they'd found that made so much noise they used them every night just to annoy the hell out of Mac, and it was also here that Connor found that police scanner; the same scanner that they were able to pick up the report from when Richie and his sister had wiped out on her motorcycle and were being rushed to the hospital. It all seemed now like that had been a hundred years ago, and that they might as well have been a thousand miles from home. He couldn't see any way that they could expect to get away from here alive.

* * *

><p>It was an hour later when they returned to the house, Kronos was by the front door and looked amused when they walked in. Methos came in behind the twins and shut the door behind him when he heard Kronos say, "Well, Brother, I'm surprised, it seems all went accordingly after all."<p>

"I said it would, didn't I?" he asked as he peeled off his gloves.

"Yes, but I'm curious as to how you managed that," Kronos said with a knowing smirk that gave him resemblance to the Cheshire Cat.

"I told you before, Brother," Methos said quietly to him so the twins wouldn't hear, "You just have to have a way with children."

Both struggled to refrain from laughing. Kronos grabbed Methos by his jacket and said quietly, "By the way, Caspian's working on the new bomb, he wants to see you later."

"Of course," Methos said as he peeled his jacket off, "By the way, Kronos, have you given any consideration to that idea I told you about last night?"

"Yes," he replied, "And I still think you're crazy but it's worth trying."

"What is?" Richelle asked.

They looked over at the twins who had picked up on their conversation, and Methos answered, "A new idea for MacLeod, every few days he gets a very short phone call from an 'anonymous' person for a few seconds before being abruptly cut off. Never long enough that the call could be traced even if he was stupid enough to bring the police into this, but it _is_ getting a bit dull. It's time we made things a bit more interesting."

Richie and his sister looked at each other and didn't say a word, but they seemed to be considering what the Immortals were saying.

"What did you have in mind?" Richie asked.

* * *

><p>Duncan picked up the receiver on the first ring, "Hello?"<p>

"Hello, MacLeod," the familiar sinister voice on the other end replied, "How're things on your side today?"

Every time Duncan answered the phone, it was somebody different; he knew it had to be at least two people who would switch of every time they called to taunt him, but he couldn't figure out anything when they called. They never revealed any information, they hung up when he asked too many questions, and they never stayed on the line long enough that he could have the calls traced back to their source.

"Why are you doing this, you bastard?" he wanted to know.

"Oh really, MacLeod," the voice replied mockingly, "Aren't _we_ nasty today? Too bad, I may just have to reconsider."

"Reconsider what?" he asked, his heart jumping into his throat.

On the other end of the line, Kronos pulled the receiver away from his ear and grinned to himself; then he took the phone over to the living room where Methos and Richelle were on the couch, quietly arguing over a word used in a game they were playing on the coffee table. They looked up and saw him standing before them with the phone in hand, his fingers wrapped around the mouthpiece so MacLeod couldn't hear them.

"It's for you," he quietly said to Richelle.

"Who is it?" she asked.

He smiled in spite of himself and only said, "One guess," as he handed the phone to her.

Richelle positioned the earpiece and mouthpiece accordingly and said, "Hello?"

Duncan's stomach dropped out.

"Richelle?"

In spite of who she was talking to, Richelle couldn't help but grin, she was actually pleased to hear his voice again. She grinned as she replied, "Hey Oberon!"

Methos and Kronos looked to each other and mouthed the same word to one another, "Oberon?"

"How go things in fairy land?" Richelle wanted to know.

This was surreal; almost two weeks without knowing if Richie and Richelle were dead or alive and now she was on the phone. Duncan was practically tripping over his own words.

"Richelle? Where are you? Are you and Richie alright?"

"Hoo boy, MacLeod," Richelle grinned from ear to ear, "This has got to be a real kick in the head for you. I'm sure they've told you that this is a package deal, if you intend to get Richie back that means you have to take me too, which you most likely won't do, since you hate me _so_ much. But if not, that means you'll never see either one of us again, so you have to figure out if you hate me more than you want Richie back."

Duncan's mind was racing, he was trying to figure out what to do before they hung up. "Richelle, _where_ are you?"

Kronos took the phone back from Richelle at that moment and said into the mouthpiece, "Sorry, MacLeod, that's all for today, we'll just have to try again later," and he disconnected the call.

"Hey, he really sounded worried," Richelle said as she sat back down on the couch.

"Why do you call him Oberon?" Methos asked her.

She looked at him and answered, "Because he hates it, it annoys him to no end."

"But why Oberon?"

"Well that's a long story," she said, "It started back when I first met them. But to sum it up, picture MacLeod all in black and covered with glittering confetti. He's never forgiven me for that night, or for any other time that I've been to his home."

"And refresh our memories," Methos told her, "What did you do that he hates you so much?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, "I went to his house, I apparently interrupted his perfect life, before Connor brought me out, he had a girlfriend, he had his live-in whipping boy, that was all he needed, then the East Side Kids pay him a visit, suddenly his life is all disrupted, he's got somebody who actually talks back to him, somebody that actually tells Richie to look out for himself, and not blindly believe everything this moron is telling him. Somebody who quickly takes on the assignment of making his life a living hell, but believe me he's been repaying that favor every inch of the way. The first time we went out there, he spent the whole week talking to the cops and the FBI and everybody, trying to find out who I _really_ was, like I was an imposter or something. He was always looking for a smoking gun to prove I couldn't possibly be Richie's sister, well he never found it. You know, it stands to reason when the time comes that he will say he'll take both of us back, he hates me plenty enough to leave me here, but he needs Richie."

"What for?" Kronos asked.

"Oh he's training Richie to be another him, a miniature him," Richelle explained, "The brainwashing process I'm happy to say has not been a successful one, but he tries, always tries. It's like a custody battle almost, it's tug-of-war actually, MacLeod grabs one arm, I grab the other, and we both pull Richie like a wishbone. It's pathetic really, but, he's already been poisoned enough that he doesn't have it in him to just walk out on them, he thinks he's gotta be loyal to them or something. It's a good thing I came along when I did, he never would've had a prayer."

The two Immortals were quiet for a minute as they hovered on opposite sides of her, Methos looked down at her and commented, "You seem resilient enough."

"Call it a…cultural difference, that's what Connor does," she said, "Everything that makes me different from Richie, he attributes it to growing up in New York. Maybe it is, I don't know."

* * *

><p>That evening, Methos and Kronos were making the rounds through all the ground floor rooms and came again to the living room, where it was eerily quiet as there wasn't anyone else around at that time.<p>

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Kronos asked.

"I only said I wanted to reconsider our options," Methos said as he sat down on the arm of the couch, "Don't bite my head off."

"What is there to reconsider?" Kronos wanted to know.

"Look Kronos, I know I agreed to be a part of this but I think it's going too far. Eventually that woman is going to come back and what's going to happen when she finds out the kids are gone?"

"What should it matter to her?" Kronos wanted to know, "They're not hers, they're not MacLeod's either."

"Nor are they ours," Methos reminded him, "Look, I don't necessarily want to send them back to MacLeod either, but there has to be another option."

"What?"

Methos was starting to think. "When Richelle got sick, I asked if MacLeod knew about her condition. She said 'he was told', she didn't say she told him."

"So someone else did, so what?" Kronos asked.

"Somebody else knows that she's playing Russian roulette with her life, it was someone else that was feeding her those pills to keep her alive…it must be Connor MacLeod. It would make sense, it's the only other antique shop she'd have any reason for frequenting at the time she happened to get her arm sliced up by a bayonet blade. It simply _has_ to be Connor MacLeod, Duncan's long distance cousin."

"Who as you'll recall," Kronos reminded his brother and emphasized as he poked him, "Is 3,000 miles away in New-York-City, what do you plan to do?"

The two brothers started talking over one another so they sounded like one noise combined, and they were only broken up when Silas came into the room and got between them because Caspian was missing.

"Hoorah!" Methos dryly replied, "About bloody time. Now if only we could find a way to make it permanent."

"Wait a minute," Kronos told him, "What about the bomb?"

"What about it?"

"Is _it_ still here?"

"Even Caspian wouldn't be dumb enough to try setting that up this far off the schedule," Methos reminded his brother, "Then again…"

That started another conversation that the three brothers were all talking at once over, and this time it was only broken up when Richie came into the room and poked Methos, because he couldn't find his sister anywhere. Before anybody could say anything in response, their attention was drawn to a new commotion; they heard two people screaming and got their answer when down into the fireplace fell first Caspian, and then Richelle, breaking her fall on him.

"Why not?" Methos asked as he went over and helped pull Richelle off his brother, "Get off of him."

Richelle stumbled and fell on the floor beside him and she looked down at herself and saw her skin and clothes barely had any soot on them, "Hey that's not bad," she said, and tugging on Methos' jean leg to get his attention asked him, "Who cleans your chimney?"

Caspian pushed himself to his feet and lunged at her, but Methos stood between the two and wouldn't let him by. Kronos came up to Caspian and throttled him and told him to shut up and stop causing trouble. Caspian glared at him and pointed to Richelle and said, "She provokes me!"

"Shut your trap and don't _let_ her provoke you," Kronos warned him.

Richie helped Richelle to her feet and he said to Methos, "You said that that fireplace was boarded up to keep the bats out."

"It was," Methos nodded, and gesturing to his sister and Caspian, "The dingbats!"

"What was he doing up on the roof?" Richelle wanted to know, "That's where I found him."

Methos stomped on her foot to shut her up, and once things had quieted down and the brothers had gone their separate ways for the night; he explained that with the tension between the Watchers, Hunters and Immortals growing with every passing day, they were starting to reconsider the security of their own home, so several times each day and night they took turns watching from the roof, which being three stories up, gave them a hell of a view of the surrounding vicinity.

"And if they were to come here," Richie wanted to know, "What would happen? You said it yourself you can't tell when mortals are around, if they could get in here before you saw them, you'd be ambushed, and what then?"

They both caught the annoyed look in Methos' eyes as he glared at them, as if they had insulted his intelligence.

"He's got a point," Richelle said, "No matter how prepared you think you might be if they came in numbers large enough, there wouldn't be much you could do. Especially given the weapons of today and their far progression in speed and accuracy, if you figure 30 people with full automatics that can shell out 15 bullets per second, where would that leave you besides doing a good imitation of Swiss cheese?"

"I'll worry about that," he replied, a bit defensively.

"Of course you will, that's all good and well for you," Richelle said, "But what about us? You could revive from that, we'd only need one bullet to take us out and it's endgame. For that matter, why would they be coming here? What do they want?"


	11. Chapter 11

Richelle, Richie and Methos exchanged a few words as they went into the kitchen for dinner. Richie and his sister got their plates and sat at the far end of the table away from Methos. The twins were relieved that they didn't have to spend the evening with the other three Immortals for dinner companions.

"Living with Immortals is more dangerous than living in New York," Richelle told Methos, "And that is no small feat!" she added as she slammed her fist on the table.

"Which I'm sure you found out long before now," Methos reminded her.

Richelle stood up and leaned as far across the table to him as possible when she said, "Up till now I haven't had the privilege of being hijacked and used as a bargaining chip for a bunch of psychopaths in the middle of a witch hunt."

"YEOUCH!" Richie yelled as he clamped his hand over his mouth.

"What happened?"

Richie bent over and spit something out on the table. Richelle stuck her finger under his lip and forced him to open his mouth. A piece of one front tooth had broken off.

"You've got a cavity," she said.

"Oh great!" he said, "Now what?"

"Whenever we get home, we go to the dentist and you get a filling, ain't you ever had one before?" Richelle asked.

Richie shook his head.

"Oh, well, the drilling isn't going to be too bad, of course you get Novocain for that…and the needle in the gum isn't going to hurt much either, the worst part is the taste of that Novocain, you're reclining back like this," she leaned back in the chair to show him, "And that crap just runs over your tongue, makes you wanna puke."

Methos interjected with a suggestion, "I have a friend who's a dentist, we can get in to see him tonight."

"No dentist is working at this hour," Richelle told him as she pointed to the clock, "They've all gone home for the night."

"That's alright," Methos said, "He's an off-the-clock kind of guy."

"He's one of you, ain't he?" Richelle asked.

"How'd you guess?"

"How old is this guy?" Richie asked.

"Well that I don't know," Methos confessed, "But he's been working in dentistry for the past 140 years."

"Which means he was there in time for the most important progressive movement in the dental business," Richelle said.

"And that is?" Richie asked.

"Anesthetics, ether, he's worked up from that, hasn't he?" Richelle asked.

Methos nodded, "Trust me, he'll get the nitrous oxide if necessary, let's go."

"No thanks," Richie said.

Richelle pushed her chair back and started to get up, "Come on, Richie, I'll go with you, might as well see how my fillings are coming along while we're at it."

Richie wasn't convinced but he said, "Alright, I'll go," emphasizing in every word how much he was against the idea.

"Yeah, we'll go," Richelle told Methos as they got their jackets, "But if this guy starts asking if it's safe, you're going to be the first one out the window to break the fall when _we_ jump out."

Methos rolled his eyes as he grabbed his coat, "Somehow I saw that one coming."

* * *

><p>It was after midnight when they got back; this time Methos came in first and the twins followed behind him. Richie and Richelle looked ever the part of identical twins tonight as they were dressed in matching jeans and T-shirts, and had on similar brown leather jackets, and both had come in with green suckers in their mouths. Neither said a word to themselves or to the Immortal, they just took off their jackets and headed upstairs to go to bed. They considered themselves fortunate that they didn't meet with any of the other occupants of the house on the way. After the night they'd had, neither was in any mood to cross paths with Caspian or Kronos again.<p>

"This place is a regular labyrinth," Richelle said as they shut the door behind them. The second floor of the house had extra bedrooms as far as the eye could see and they'd taken to trying every one out that the four brothers hadn't claimed for themselves.

Richie didn't say anything in response and just tiredly groaned as he fell back on the bed. Richelle crawled up alongside him and grabbed the stick to the sucker and told him, "Take that thing out of your mouth," and threw it away.

Richie said something in response but it only came out as a couple of small groans, still Richelle recognized it as being her name, and she replied, "What is it, Richie?"

"Do you think we're ever going to get out of here?" he asked, too tired by now to even keep his eyes open.

"I think so," she said.

"It's too bad we couldn't get to Methos' room, we could try calling Connor," Richie suggested.

"Fat lot of good that would do," Richelle told him, "He's in New York, what could he do?"

"I don't know," Richie said, "But there's got to be something, someway we can get out of here."

"I think we're improving," Richelle told him.

"Hmm?" Richie forced his eyes open and turned to look at her.

"At least now we're getting out of the house without having to break the windows," she reminded him.

Richie tiredly nodded and lay back down.

* * *

><p>Methos turned on his side but knew it didn't matter how much he tossed and turned or which side he was on, he wasn't going to get to sleep. He sat up and looked at the clock; 1:30, what a night. Giving up on the thought of getting any sleep, he pushed back the covers and got up and went over to the door and walked out into the hall and almost collided with Kronos.<p>

"What're you doing up?" Kronos asked.

"Couldn't sleep," Methos quickly replied as he headed for the stairs, "Come here, there's something I have to show you."

"Sounds serious," Kronos noted as he followed behind him.

"It could be."

They went down the back stairs to the kitchen and stopped when they saw the lights were on and Richelle was at the table.

"What're you doing up?" Methos asked her.

She turned her head and looked back towards them and answered, "I couldn't sleep, I don't feel good."

"What now?" Methos asked, sounding annoyed that she would have something else go wrong with her.

"I feel like I could puke," Richelle answered, but it wasn't her stomach she was holding, it was her throat.

Methos sighed and shook his head as he went over to the table to get a look at her, "What did you eat tonight?"

"I don't see what that should do with anything," she told him, "There's nothing wrong with my stomach, it's my _throat_ that's on fire."

"Heartburn," Methos said.

"You can call it what you like," she replied as she pointed to her throat, "But the acid is ad nauseam."

"Where's your brother?" he asked her.

"He's still asleep," she answered.

"At this rate he'll be the only one," Methos said.

"Now what is it you needed to show me?" Kronos wanted to know.

"Oh that, over here," Methos went over to the junk drawer under the counter and pulled out a small box.

"What's that?" Richelle asked.

Methos glanced back towards her and explained, "Nobody comes to this house, so, all the mail goes to a box I have down at the post office under a _different_ assumed name. I went down to pick it up this morning, and found a package addressed to my current identity, with no return address, and some very interesting pictures."

Kronos took the lid off the box and took the photos out.

"Cute," he commented as he saw the close-up shot of Methos with a circle drawn around it and a cross drawn through it, like the view of a rifle scope.

"Remind me what they call that?" Methos asked, "Crosshairs?"

Richelle got up and went over between them to see the pictures, "Where was this taken?"

"In town," Methos answered, and he studied the buildings in the background, "That looks like the courthouse."

"So that's why you station the cuckoo on the roof," Richelle said.

Methos shook his head and told Kronos, "Nobody could have figured it out yet, where we are."

Kronos thumbed through the pictures and noticed they were all of Methos, "I wouldn't give them much credit, either it's an Immortal who thinks you're a Watcher, or it's an Immortal who knows you're Immortal. Either way, I wouldn't worry much."

Methos was willing to try and believe it, "What do you think they used for the crosshairs? Usually only drafters are this accurate, this straight…"

Richelle traced her finger around the circle and said, "We had them in school, they called them compasses, why they called them that I have no idea, you remember the things, pencil on one end, a sharp point on the other, draw a perfect circle. Mine were always defective, they never worked. So yeah it could be a drafter…but I'm guessing it also means whoever it is, don't know you're Immortal because they'd want to cut your head off, seems to me this guy just wants to shoot you."

"That wouldn't be anything new," Methos commented.

"At your age what _is_ new?" Richelle asked.

* * *

><p>"It doesn't make sense," Richelle said when she returned to their room that night.<p>

"What doesn't?" Richie asked, half asleep.

"Why would anybody come here?" she asked, "Specifically why would the Hunters come here?"

Richie groaned something in response but it was completely muffled as he rolled over onto the pillows.

"They said the Hunters hunt Immortals, but they didn't say anything about if Hunters hunt Watchers, which is where they hide, but it would make sense," she said, "Kill the people they hide behind and then say the Immortals did it to further the propaganda. If that were the case it means these Hunters are intending to be the last ones standing and let everyone else kill each other off."

Richie opened his eyes and picked up the clock by the bed, it was going on 2 o' clock in the morning.

"Aren't you ever going to sleep?" he asked her.

"How can you sleep?" she wanted to know.

"It's night, I'm tired," Richie said defensively, "I'm funny like that."

"But what if the Hunters came here?" Richelle wanted to know, "Why would they come here? What do they want? More specifically, what does this Horton guy want?"

"Who knows?" Richie groaned as he lay back down, "And for the time being I don't care, I'm too tired to care."

"You're always tired," Richelle told him, "Even back home that's all you did half the day is sleep."

"I'm not a morning person, is that a crime?" Richie asked.

Methos came into the room looking half asleep himself, and without a word he got between the two just before they started ripping each other's throats out and grabbed Richelle by the arm and pulled her towards the door.

"Where're we going?" she asked.

"I don't know and I don't care," he replied, "So long as you both _shut up_."

"You never answered my question earlier," she told him, "Why would the Hunters come here? What do they want?"

But Methos didn't answer her and instead he opened the door to his room and pushed her in and told her to go to sleep and be quiet. Richelle shrugged to herself and went over to the bed and picked up the Stripe doll that was by the pillows. Methos came back into the room and snatched it away from her and went back out.

"Stingy," she said after he had left. She crawled onto the bed and waited a few minutes, and when all was quiet, she crept back to Richie's room and crawled in bed alongside him and soon fell asleep.

* * *

><p>A couple of days passed uneventfully, the weather stayed miserable and nobody left the house. And possibly due to this constant exposure to one another without a break away from the others, everybody was starting to get on edge; and it was starting to spread to the twins as well. Richelle purposely started fights with Caspian on a regular basis, but at the last minute he was always called off by either Methos or Kronos. Richie warned her not to press her luck but she didn't listen; her argument was that she felt lousy and she intended to make somebody else miserable as well. During this time, Richie largely kept to himself and several times during the day returned to one of the bedrooms and fell asleep. He knew that he should stay close to his sister and make sure she didn't get herself killed, but at the same time he also knew if he wasn't with her, and he wasn't doing anything, then he couldn't be blamed for anything that went on either, and Richelle wasn't the only one feeling lousy.<p>

The next morning, Methos could've sworn that Richelle had always been a part of their group; anytime anyone of them was in a bad mood it became highly contagious, and from the moment that she emerged from the bedroom and showed herself, there was murder in her eyes and she was ready to rip out the throat of the first person who so much as looked at her wrong. Richie hadn't been with her that morning, he was still in bed, which was unusual for him but it convinced Methos that the boy was the smartest one there; for all the noise he had to put up with, he was starting to wish he'd stayed in bed too.

Finally, when he couldn't stand to listen to Richelle barking at the others any longer, he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her back towards him and asked her, "What's the matter with you?" and her response was to slap him. And, though he should've known better, acting on a reflex, he immediately hit her back and knocked her against the table. She glared at him through eyes that couldn't stay fully open and she looked like she wanted to kill him. It was a look he was well acquainted with having been married several times; but what he hadn't seen was her reaching behind as she grabbed a knife from the table before lunging at him and trying to stab him.

He grabbed her and they both fell to the floor and he jerked the knife away from her, and when she tried to attack again, his response was to kick her so she fell back; it hadn't been so much to hurt her as it had been just to catch her off guard and stun her for a couple of seconds. This time she slowly got back up, it was obvious she wasn't ready to admit defeat yet but for now she returned to her own corner.

"Next time I'd suggest going for the spine," Kronos commented to his brother.

"Eh, she's just being obnoxious," Methos responded, "I think they're both just going crazy from being inside all the time."

"Well that's your fault for taking them out in the first place," his brother replied.

"Maybe," Methos said, "But I think when I head into town later it would do them some good to come as well."

"You can't be serious," Kronos told him.

"Have I ever been anything else?" he asked with a small, knowing smirk, "Besides, you know what they say about a chained dog."

Kronos shook his head and asked his brother, "How have you managed to stay alive so long?"

"Really now," Methos feigned offense, "Your confidence in me is terribly underwhelming, I'm disappointed in you, Brother."

"_I_ should be disappointed," he replied, "Every so often I can't help but wonder why I was cursed with you for a brother."

"Just lucky I guess," Methos told him.

* * *

><p>"You can tell winter's on the way," Richie said as he shoved his arms into the sleeves of Methos' brown leather jacket as they headed out the door.<p>

"_Some_ winter," his sister sneered as she followed behind him, "It never snows around here."

"It's still cold," he told her.

"Yeah, leave it to that dumbass MacLeod, just _had_ to live in a cold climate, couldn't hightail it to a tropical atmosphere until Easter, could he?"

"It gets cold in New York," Richie reminded her, "And it _does_ snow there."

"Yeah but you know where he keeps his winter home?" she replied, "In Belize, it's 85 degrees there now while we're freezing our asses off _here_."

The two argued amongst themselves during the entire ride into town, and when they came to a stop, both saw that they were at the grocery store, but Richie noticed sooner than his sister did that this was _not_ the place where Mac and Tessa did their shopping. They didn't say a word between themselves but Richelle knew what he was thinking and nodded her head in agreement; nobody was taking any chances on running into MacLeod and ruining the plan.

And once again when they went in and found themselves surrounded by people, both looked to see if anybody struck them as familiar. If there was a chance that they'd seen any of these people before and if any of them might recognize the two teenagers. But no matter who they saw or where they looked, nobody stuck out; for all they knew they could've been lost in a sea of strangers, they couldn't pick out a single person that they knew from somewhere else.

"What do you think?" Richie asked her as they'd managed to separate from Methos. As it was the twins stood less than 10 feet away from the door and they could've made a break for it.

Richelle picked her head up from looking over the vine tomatoes and shook it, "Too risky."

"You don't think he had that _thing_ follow us, do you?" he asked.

"I doubt it," she replied as she picked up one tomato and dragged 10 others behind it on a very long vine, "But he's a calculative enough bastard I'm sure he could find a way to booby trap the exit incase we'd try to get out without him."

Richie looked down at the tomatoes and asked, "What're those for?"

"Later," she answered.

Unfortunately Richie could guess what they were for and he told his sister, "You're going to get us both killed if you don't watch it."

"Relax, Caspian's not going to do anything to us," she told him, "If he does, he'll have to answer to Kronos."

"You're betting a lot on him letting us stay alive," he said.

"I suppose I am," she replied, "But somehow I think if he wanted us dead, we would've been long before now."

"Yeah but think about it," Richie told her, "With all that we know, do you really think they're going to let us go?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I do."

"You're crazier than I thought," he said.

* * *

><p>They didn't go back to the house after leaving the store, instead they seemed to take a long detour off the beaten path again, and this time they wound up in an abandoned lot that was heavily populated with old and vacant cars.<p>

"What is this place?" Richie asked as they stopped.

"Auto graveyard," Methos answered as they got out, "This is where all the old cars come to die."

"So why're _we_ here?" Richie wanted to know.

"Mutual territory," Richelle guessed, "Do business with somebody out in the open here without having to compromise the home location."

"You're not entirely wrong," Methos said, "Not mutual territory, _neutral _territory. An important key to staying alive is knowing who to trust, but the next lesson is to never trust anybody fully."

"Who're you telling?" the twins asked.

"When you're in the Watchers you learn you have to rely on somebody for help from time to time," he explained as they headed around a long row of abandoned cars, "But, no sense in inviting trouble onto the doorstep. And in the Watchers, we know about the Hunters and there are a select few who are actively revolting against it…but it all has to be done under the radar because just like Immortals aren't supposed to know Watchers exist, Watchers aren't supposed to know Hunters exist, but we do, but most aren't bothering to do anything about it."

"So?" Richie asked.

"So you might say I have an informant of sorts but to make sure that our covers aren't blown, we never meet in the same place…he comes first, drops off the information I need in a place not in the open, and then I come in at another time and find it. It's unlikely that anybody else would come out here as it is but all the same I don't believe much in taking chances anymore."

The twins stayed close behind him so they wouldn't get lost but as they passed by the hundreds of permanently parked cars, Richelle looked at the long rows and commented, "Looks like the parking garage under Madison Square Garden."

"What information?" Richie asked.

"You already know that the Hunters hide within the Watchers and the Watchers watch the Immortals," Methos told them.

"So?" Richelle asked.

Methos stopped and the two walked into him and took a step back as he turned around and he said to them, "Who do you suppose watches the Watchers?"

"It's a neverending game of ping pong with these people," Richelle commented to her brother, "You mean to say that the Watchers are turning against their own kind as well?"

"Something of that sort, yes," Methos answered as they resumed walking.

Richie and his sister didn't have any idea where they were going, they just continued to follow Methos all up and down the lot and past row after row after row of old cars; until finally he stopped at one junked open convertible, and he leaned over the door and reached down and pulled something off of the car's floor.

"What's that?" Richie asked.

Methos turned the papers around and answered, "Status report, who's where, doing what…"

Both twins noticed when he stopped talking and they knew why he had. They looked and saw the only too familiar look of subtle panic on his face.

"Who is it?" Richelle asked.

Methos turned and saw somebody coming up towards them and he told the teenagers to get out of there and fast; they didn't need to be told twice and they took off in the opposite direction. When they heard the familiar noise of metal of on metal they stopped to look back and saw that the two Immortals were fighting. They got higher up on a hill behind the lot and were able to get a better view at what was going on.

"Richie…oh my God, do you see what I see?" Richelle asked.

Richie looked and he did see what she did; at the entrance where they had come into the graveyard, a pack of other people were entering the place.

"More of them," Richelle said.

"Headhunters," Richie replied.

"Come on," Richelle said as she started moving down.

"What're we going to do?" he asked her.

"They can't sense us!" she reminded him, "He needs our help, come on!"

Richie rolled his eyes and grumbled as he followed down behind his sister. He sure wish he knew how he let himself get talked into these things all the time.

* * *

><p>Methos in the meantime had his hands full; the fight had started out rather routinely and he wouldn't have been worried if it hadn't been for the very powerful quickening which told him that his opponent was well within a close age range to his own. Older Immortals were almost always more dangerous than the younger ones, and this one had been no exception. Maybe his mind was finally starting to fail him but for the life of him, he couldn't remember seeing this man anywhere in the past. Not that it mattered now because he'd come for a fight and he'd brought several friends with him.<p>

Even a cheating game of five against one is not always something to worry about, depending on who makes up the pack; but in this instant he was smart enough to be concerned and not think himself too likely of taking on all of them at the same time. His mind had to be as quick as his body to stay one step and a few spare seconds ahead of his opponents; at one point during the fight, he had swung around, locked his free arm through the other man's and inadvertently turned him around so the challenger got the blow from the third man behind them instead of Methos. Maybe the fight wouldn't be as much trouble as he thought; he could've stood a decent chance at getting out of this mess alive, until that fateful moment when _it_ happened, the one thing that all Immortals fear during a fight.

He didn't see who ambushed him but the next thing he was aware of was falling back on the ground and his sword sliding across the ground and under one of the cars. Acting fast, he kicked the Immortal nearest him so the man fell back, giving him the few seconds he needed to reach into his coat and pull out a stun grenade and activate it. From the time it went off, he had five seconds to put as much distance as possible between himself and the others, and he made it count. He slid under the nearest car and worked his way along underneath the automobiles as he tried to relocate his sword.

At that time, Richie and his sister had split up and were working their way down into the heart of the action, and so far both had managed to remain undetected. As they also moved along crawling under the cars, they noticed that it was starting to rain, and had no doubt this would only make things more complicated for everyone involved. As Richelle slithered along on the ground, her eyes blurred up and her face felt hot, and she was starting to question if this was similar to what the soldiers in the old wars used to endure. She grumbled something to herself about Christmas in the trenches as she came to a stop and saw Methos' Ivanhoe laying nearby and saw his hand outstretched and just about to reach it. She lunged out and pushed the sword over to where he was able to grab it and then she took off crawling in another direction.

As she started to exit from underneath an old Mercedes, she saw another man who was about to jump Methos from behind. Acting on a blind impulse, she slid out from under the car and tackled the man and the two rolled around on the ground; the noise got Methos' attention but he had his hands full with three other Immortals at that time. Richie also reappeared at that time and lunged at another Immortal, this one a woman, and they also both got knocked to the ground and were each trying to pin the other one down. The woman clocked him in the jaw and he fell back, but she barely got up before he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down again.

The commotion quickly died down when they heard gunshots from a distance; the noise startled both Richie and his sister and they forgot the people they were fighting with and got up and saw three other figures approaching, but they realized that it was Methos' brothers. Looking around, they saw that several of the Immortals in the fight had been shot and were momentarily dead.

"What kept you?" Methos asked sarcastically.

Kronos only smirked like a fat cat that swallowed a canary as he told him, "You might say we got a little anxious when you didn't show up." Pointing to the corpses he asked, "Anybody we know?"

Methos shook his head, "I never saw them before."

Without a word, Richie slowly slid to the ground with his back to the grill of a car; his head tilted and he closed his eyes and was as good as asleep now that the crisis seemed to be over.

"The problem is," Methos continued, "I'm not sure they're all like us…half of them I couldn't tell they were here."

"Then they're Hunters?" Richelle asked.

"Could be," Methos turned to see one of the men that had been gunned down and saw that spot on the ground was now vacant. Richelle saw it too, and looked to the back of the lot and saw the man running, "He's getting away!"

Richelle felt ready to drop alongside her brother, and though she had no personal stake in the matter, for a reason unknown even to her, she found herself jumping on one of the cars and running after the fugitive by jumping from one car to another as she chased him to the end of the line. She didn't know how but she caught up with him and jumped off of the last car in the row and pounced on him and they tumbled to the ground. Richelle's hands automatically found their way to his throat and she tried to strangle him and when that didn't work, she adjusted her hold and bashed his head against the ground. The man tried to push her off of him but she only tightened her hold and shifted them around so the next time she knocked his head back it was against the side of the car. One more time and she bashed his head back against the car's headlight and busted it.

It was just at this time that Methos and Kronos had caught up with her; Kronos lunged at them and grabbed Richelle by the back and started to pull her off the man, but she resisted and clawed her way back towards her victim. It seemed she had become possessed; she screamed and violently struggled to get away from Kronos and continue trying to kill the man. Kronos grabbed her again and jerked her off her victim and pinned her wrists over her head so she couldn't strike anyone and when she saw him it was like she had come out of a trance. As quickly as she had flung into a homicidal rage, now she stopped cold and looked like she'd been slapped in the face; she got up on her knees and before she could do anything else, for no apparent reason she was screaming at the top of her lungs like she was being tortured and she fell to the ground with her hands at the sides of her head, and her whole body started to convulse.

"My God," Methos said as he moved to restrain her. For a minute she looked to him like she was having a stroke. As he grabbed her, his hand brushed against her forehead and despite the cold rain pouring on them by this time, he could tell she was running a high fever; and for all his years of being a doctor, he could already tell that it was around 106 degrees.

"What is it?" Kronos wanted to know, the first thing he'd said since the brawl had begun.

"I don't know," Methos replied as he grabbed Richelle and picked her up.

It wasn't that Methos had a problem with violence, or even attempted murder, but he'd taken issues with this whole ordeal from the start. As far as he had been concerned, Richie and his sister were only supposed to be a couple of innocent bystanders in the middle of this plan. The idea had been to keep them out of sight and out of mind, and nobody would get hurt who didn't deserve it. During their attempted escapes, when the twins tried to kill them, he had warned Kronos about pushing them any further to see what they might do. He remembered well the discussion about who had the capacity to kill, and who would have a chance to prove it. They weren't supposed to take a part in this damn war with the Hunters, but he supposed it was inevitable.

* * *

><p>It was always different with Immortals, anything that these two terrors could come up with to try on the four brothers was recoverable, but with mortals…that was what Methos had hoped to avoid. If it had been an Immortal's brains Richelle was bashing out in the auto graveyard, that would've been different, but the man that she knocked into unconsciousness with a scalp full of glass was a mortal, granted a Hunter, but a mortal nonetheless. That was why they had to call off the attack; there wasn't a doubt in Methos' mind that Richelle <em>would<em> kill, but he knew that so far she hadn't been pushed to actually committing the act, but she had come damn close this time. However, he realized that that had not been her conscious intention; rather he concluded that her actions just prior to her breakdown were a direct result of the high fever she was now suffering from.

Once they'd gotten out of that place and back to the house, he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom and all but dropped her on the bed as she still tried to fight him but by now her whole body was reduced to shaking like a leaf and she was starting to ramble incoherently. Kronos had followed him into the room and watched as Methos looked her over. One thing about all the years he had spent as a doctor, he got damn closer all the time to being able to accurately diagnose someone based on a brief examination alone.

"She's delirious," he said.

Kronos was not impressed nor was he concerned; all the same he helped keep Richelle pinned down so Methos could finish examining her. But as he did, all Methos could think about was if Richelle was sick, then it was almost a guarantee Richie was as well.

* * *

><p>"Well, my suspicions were correct," Methos said as he reentered the bedroom, where Kronos had been keeping an eye on Richelle, who had been tied down to the bed so she couldn't flop around like a fish and injure herself, "Richie's sick too, but, not as badly as his sister is."<p>

Kronos lowly grunted and commented, "Thank God for small favors."

"It makes sense," Methos said as he sat down at the foot of the bed, "The last few days Richie's been spending most time in bed, but _this one_," he pointed to her, "Doesn't know when to quit."

Richelle had lost the strength to struggle and had quieted down some, the covers had been taken off the bed except for a light sheet, but she didn't respond well to the cold. Methos looked at her piteously and smoothed back the curls from her forehead and asked his brother, "Were you able to get any pills into her?"

"Yeah," Kronos answered, not sounding convinced it would do her much good, "It'll be our luck she'll throw them up. Any idea what it is?"

Methos didn't sound hopeful as he answered, "Could just be a cold, the flu, an infection…I don't think it's pneumonia."

"And?" Kronos added, "What about the boy?"

Methos sounded a bit more optimistic about that one, "His fever is low, he's not delirious, I think he'll largely sleep through it, he was smart, he didn't overexert himself up to this point like his sister did. Of course you realize if the fever doesn't go down, what we'll have to do, don't you?"

Kronos smirked and asked, "What's this 'we'? You seem to be doing alright by yourself."

"Funny," Methos dryly replied.

Kronos looked at Richelle and commented to his brother, "You don't think she's going to survive."

Methos didn't answer.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days passed slowly and excruciatingly; both teenagers were watched around the clock for any sign of their conditions worsening, and around the clock Richelle was fed pills, pills to keep the fever down, which didn't seem to work, and pills to keep her hypokalemia at bay, which Methos hoped did work. And for several days she stayed lost in a realm of delirium, babbling constantly, talking to people who weren't there, and for Methos, it was like watching the same bad movie over and over and over. He'd seen this too many times throughout his life, unfortunately some things were timeless and illness was one of them. The fact that they were in a completely different time and place didn't hold much water with him, the day when she was able to recognize her surroundings and speak coherently couldn't come fast enough where he was concerned.

Any time was a bad time to be ill but the nights seemed to be the worst. Methos knew that that old twin psyche just _had_ to be kicking in and Richelle, amidst her delusions and bouts of unconsciousness, _had_ to know that Richie wasn't with her and she had to be wondering what had happened to him. He felt pity for what she was going through, and for reasons he would never tell anyone, he went to his room, got the Spike gremlin doll, took it to Richelle and placed it in the crook of her arm while she slept.

He'd fallen asleep in the chair by the bed one night, and woke up when he heard someone talking. It took him a few minutes to realize it was Richelle and he opened his eyes to see her sitting up in bed with daggers in her eyes aimed specifically for him.

"Where is my brother?" she demanded to know.

It was still dark out and Methos guessed it was around 2 in the morning, though he was still half asleep as he asked her, "What?"

"My brother, where the hell is he?" she demanded to know, and she reached for him, "If you've done anything to him, so help me I'll…"

That was the story of his life, try to help people and they want to kill you for it.

"He's in another room," he calmly explained, "You don't remember but you've both been sick."

"I remember," she said, "I remember _very_ well, what I want to know is why? Why did you split us up?"

Methos practically had to sit on her to keep her from flying off the bed, as he struggled to keep his temper as he told her, "We couldn't take a chance. You both showed similar symptoms but for all we knew it could've stemmed from two completely different illnesses, we couldn't risk it."

"_You_ couldn't risk it?" she repeated, "Who the hell do you think you are? It's _my_ life you're screwing around with. Mine and my brother's, that's a line you don't cross."

Methos bit back the urge to reply with 'who're you telling?', but he understood what she was saying very well.

"Where _is_ Richie? _How_ is he?" she wanted to know.

"He's done better than you," he answered.

But she wasn't convinced, she had to see it with her own eyes, and he couldn't blame her.

"I can see you still don't trust us," he said as he untied her.

"I don't trust anybody," she replied, "You stay alive longer that way."

Yes indeed, there had been a whole other reason why _these two_ were drafted for this game of cat and mouse with MacLeod instead of that Noel woman. For one thing, and he couldn't deny it, things had certainly be a lot more amusing with these two around instead of her. They went to the room where Richie was being kept for the time being and neither was too surprised to see he was still in bed asleep. Richelle climbed on the bed beside him and shook him to wake him up but he was dead to the world.

"How many of those pills was _he_ slipped?" she wanted to know.

"There's a reason he wasn't hit as hard as you were," Methos told her.

She calmed down after that and replied, "I guess I should be grateful for that." She went over to the bed and climbed on it alongside her brother. Methos looked at the two with something of an amused expression on his face; he went over to the bed and pulled the covers up on her and commented, "It's to my understanding that most pairs of twins speak their own language, some gibberish only they understand."

"Not us," she tiredly replied, "Richie here can't hardly even speak English."

Methos looked over at Richie, who hadn't moved and hadn't noticed his extra company. Lethargy had become his first nature since he got sick and he spent most of the days and all the nights asleep now.

"He seemed a bit more anxious to go back home than you do," he commented.

"Yeah well what can I say?" Richelle asked, "MacLeod succeeded in partially washing his brain but it got hung out to dry prematurely, thank God."

Methos smirked and said, "You don't like MacLeod, do you?"

"Do _you_?" she replied.

"I never met him," Methos reminded her.

"But you still have an opinion about him," she said, "Your brother knows him and that makes you biased as well, so what's your opinion about the bastard?"

"From what I know about him?" she nodded, "I wouldn't waste my time knowing him."

She smiled weakly and replied, "You know, Scarecrow, I think I like you."

"I can see they haven't sold _you_ on the idea of a big happy family," Methos noted.

Richelle sneered and told him, "MacLeod's got a warped sense of what qualifies as family. What _he_ calls family, _I_ call dictatorship. He wants a family that everybody's going to do exactly what he says when he says it without question, he really thinks we're going to say how high when he tells us to jump."

"I've known people like that," Methos told her.

Richelle's eyes were half closed down and her words started to slur as she continued, "You know he looks at Richie and he sees another him, he looks at me and sees…" she shook her head, "I don't know…he hates me, he must, he's hated me since the day I stepped in and interrupted his perfect life, he'd do anything he could to get rid of me. He's put up with me because he knew otherwise, I'd take Richie and he'd never see either of us again, but he makes it no secret that he despises me. I think if I died he'd be _very_ happy."

"What did you do?" Methos asked.

"I was just there, he couldn't have that, he had to get me out of the way because Richie got exposed to somebody who knows what they're doing." Her eyes closed and her head kept dropping forward before she'd wake up again and continue, "I told Richie, I tried to warn him…if he doesn't listen it'll be on his own damn head, but I told him why I don't like MacLeod."

"Why's that?"

"He's dangerous," Richelle explained, "Not like you'd think though. He's not dangerous by what he does or what he's capable of doing, physically. But he looks at people, like Richie, he comes in and says to them 'do this, do that, think like this, become this kind of person' and all he's doing for it is getting people killed. He'll start a war, and then leave somebody like Richie to fight it for him and get him killed, just to make a point. I told Richie that, but I don't think he listens…he's still naïve enough to believe that there's goodness in people and that I just don't give MacLeod a break. But I know better…MacLeod's a bastard, he will always be a bastard, the kind that will go to his grave believing he's right about everything and that every word he says is the Gospel truth. So you can see why I'm not too heartbroken about our current situation..." she laughed weakly and said, "Maybe this will teach him a lesson in humility. First he thought he was above the game and could opt out of it and lead a normal life any time he wanted, then he comes back into it and he makes a big speech about Immortals can't live normal lives…_but_ he has no problem putting Tessa's life on the line for his own selfish needs, or our lives for that matter. He wants a girlfriend, he wants kids, he wants the life he's always preaching Immortals can't have, but he thinks he's the exception who can have and do anything he wants. Well this is one time where he is completely helpless, he can't find out where we are, or who has us, all he can do is stay home and wait for the phone to ring, or to get another blood soaked letter in the mail."

Methos smiled as he smoothed back the curls on her forehead and he commented, "You two seem to be doing alright. I'd say you've faired exceptionally well given your current situation."

"And that is precisely what I've been trying to explain to MacLeod for the past six months, but you know you can't explain _anything_ to him because if it's not his own idea, it's not worth hearing. I've told him time again and again _and again_, Richie and I are adults, we are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, we don't need him for anything."

Methos nodded and said, "I'd say that's definitely true, especially considering how well you two have taken to this whole ordeal."

"That's what I told him," she said as she started to fall asleep, "He gets off thinking he knows so damned much, thinks he's superior to us…what was he doing when he was a kid? Living with his family, his mother and father," she said the words as if her tongue had been dipped in vinegar for the occasion, "Where was he at our age? _Still_ living with them, he doesn't know anything, he had a privileged life…we've had to fight to stay alive _all_ our lives, was never _anybody_ looking out for us, and there ain't anyone to watch our backs now either, we've got to rely on ourselves to stay alive."

"You're a little optimist, aren't you?"

"I'm a realist," she said, "I don't believe in good intentions or good people, there ain't no such animal, all of the world is a cesspool of bloodthirsty predators, and the only way to rise above it all is to bite back with sharper teeth."

It was hard to argue with that logic.

"Well," Methos heard behind him, "The dead rise again."

He turned around and saw Kronos standing in the doorway.

"How long have you been standing there?" Methos asked.

Richelle threw back the covers and got out of the bed and asked Methos, "How long have we been sick?"

"About five days," he answered.

"Well I need to get a bath," she said, and tried to leave the room but Kronos blocked the way out. She turned back to Methos and asked him, "What the hell's going on here?"

"You don't know it but the reason you were kept tied to that bed is when you weren't, you disappeared out of the room, only to be found downstairs, on the floor again, you had another fainting spell and came very close to cracking your head open on the glass coffee table. That said, I'd rather not we chance you conking out in the bathtub and drowning either, so if you don't mind," Methos made it clear by the way he talked that she didn't have a choice if she minded or not, "You're going to have some company while you bathe."

Richelle didn't say anything at first, she just looked at Methos, then turned to look at Kronos and she finally exploded at them saying, "Why the hell not? I don't see how it should be anymore embarrassing now than it was when I was 7!" and walked past Kronos towards the bathroom, and both Immortals followed after her.

* * *

><p>After being sick in bed for several days, Richelle reveled in being able to soak in a hot bath. She couldn't scrub off her skin but trying to burn it off seemed like a nice second; anything to get rid of that smell, that all too familiar smell of being sick, it always had a tendency to linger. The room was full of steam and her skin was as red as a lobster; the water's surface was white and filmy from soap and offered a thin screen of privacy, not that it mattered much anyway because the two Immortals were more engrossed in the private conversation they were having. Richelle reached over and her wet hand grabbed the back of Methos' jacket as she asked him, "Hey genius, have you figured out who sent you those pictures yet?"<p>

"That's what I'm working on," he told her, "I have a few ideas."

"Brother, you disappoint me," Kronos shook his head, "You _really_ think that James Horton, _the_ most wanted bastard in the Hunters, whom everyone would love to see hot tarred and feathered and set on fire, would be dumb enough to come here and what more let us know that he'd declared you a target?"

"If he didn't think I could pin him for it, it makes sense that he would," Methos tried to reason with him, "Horton is smart but he's also egotistical and thinks he's smarter than everyone else and that's where he starts to slip."

"Just like MacLeod," Richelle commented, "Good thing these two can't team up and work together. That would be a disaster area." She looked past Methos over to his brother and said to him, "Can _you_ tell me why Horton would even want to come here? What does he want?"

"Besides us dead?" Kronos asked, "I can guess."

"Do us a favor and don't," Methos replied, "Every time you start guessing all we get is trouble."

As the two argued, Richelle moved around so she was directly under the tub's faucet and turned on the cold tap and let the icy water wash over her.

"Exactly what does this Horton plan to accomplish by killing off all the Immortals? He _has_ to know sooner or later people are going to catch on and realize who's the man behind the mask and then he's going to have a price on his head," she said.

"What did Hitler have to accomplish by killing off the Jews?" Methos asked, "The Poles, the Serbs, the Soviets, the deaf, the retarded, the crippled…"

Kronos sat down on the edge of the tub and told Richelle, "We can be here all night, in the future, don't get him started on this again."

Richelle found the drain lever and pushed it and the tub started to drain. Kronos gave her a yank out of the tub and she wrapped a large black towel around her as the three of them left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, where along the way, they ran into Silas and Caspian, and Caspian looked like he was ready to kill someone.

"Doesn't anybody in this house go to sleep anymore!" he said when he saw them.

Richelle hawed and told him, "You should try living in New York."

"What happened to you?" Methos asked as he noticed that Caspian's clothes were singed and parts of his skin were blackened.

"Car bomb went off," he said, and when he opened his mouth, Richelle was surprised to see smoke coming out of it.

"Not your car," Richelle guessed.

"Obviously not," Methos said, "Or he wouldn't be here now."

"And this ain't Miami so I'm going to go on a limb and guess he didn't get caught in a cartel's crossfire, more of the Hunters' work?" she asked.

"Obviously," Kronos said.

"Whatever," Richelle replied, "I'm going to bed."

She returned to the bedroom but turned around when she noticed Methos had followed her in.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "Uh-uh, it was one thing with you two standing around while I was in the tub but I am _not_ getting dressed with you in here."

Methos went over to her and instead of responding, he put his hand on her forehead; Richelle put her hands on her sides and asked, "Well? What's the verdict?"

"101 degrees," he said, "Not good but better."

Richelle pointed over to her unconscious brother and asked, "What about him?"

Methos went over to the bed and felt Richie's forehead and answered, "100 degrees."

"What is it?" Richelle asked as she slipped into a nightshirt.

"Could be any one of a dozen things," Methos told her, "Now just so I know we're not going to be in for anymore surprises, you're not also an epileptic by chance, are you?"

"Certainly not," she said, "Why?"

"Never mind," he replied, "I'm going to give you some pills before you go to sleep, they should help bring the fever back down to normal."

"What about Richie?" she asked.

"If he wakes up now we'll all be up," Methos told her, "He'll get his in the morning."

"Hey!" she just realized, "If we've been conked out for five days, what the hell's been going on around here?"

"What do you mean?" Methos asked.

"Have you figured out who sent you those bulls eye pictures yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," he answered, "But I stand by my suspicion it's Horton."

"And? You never answered _why_ he would want to come here, or anyone else for that matter," Richelle remembered.

"That'll wait for another time," Methos told her, "Right now, I'm going to get your pills, and then I have a few questions for you."

"For me?" she repeated in disbelief.

* * *

><p>"When you were sick you started to ramble on in delirium," Methos told Richelle as she got into bed alongside her brother, "I didn't figure there was any substance to any of it but I did take a few notes at a few names that stuck out. Sometime during your delusions you mentioned two people named Seth and Keith St. Cloud, do you have any idea who they are?"<p>

Richelle didn't need to take too long to think about it, she nodded.

"Who are they?" Methos asked.

"Just a couple of guys," she said.

"A couple of Immortals," Methos corrected her.

She nodded, "Alright, a couple of Immortals, yeah, so what?"

"How do you know them?"

She made a face and said, "Remember what I said about MacLeod can't accept the fact that we're adults, and capable of looking after ourselves? Well that was another such case, he doesn't know about it, we never told him. I don't know who these guys are or what they wanted but for some reason they wanted MacLeod, and they came to the shop one day looking for him. The only thing was he wasn't there, he and Tessa were out somewhere, only Richie and I were home that day when they barged in."

"And?"

She shrugged, "They said they wanted MacLeod, we said he wasn't there, they didn't believe us. So they came upstairs…"

* * *

><p>She remembered it well. The two men who had walked into the shop were both tall and wore trench coats and looked like a couple of killers, at least where the twins had been concerned. And when the two Immortals pushed past them, Richie and his sister both knew they were going to have trouble with these unwanted guests. Richie didn't know what to do but all the same he had a plan, he went over to one of the display cases and took out one of the swords, he didn't know how good it would be for fighting, or for that matter how good <em>he<em> would be, but he was going to find out.

They followed the intruders up the stairs and found that they had ransacked the living room.

"We told you," Richelle said defiantly as she folded her arms to her chest, "He's not here, trust me if he were I would offer him up to you on a platter, gladly, just to be rid of him."

The man closest to her told her to shut up and hit her in the face so hard that she fell back and hit the floor. Richie thrust the sword out and the tip of the blade was a fraction of an inch from the other man's neck.

* * *

><p>"Naturally they fought," Richelle said, "What else could Richie do? And I'll tell you, for him not having one idea what the hell he was doing, he did a good job of faking it. He and that freak Seth were neck and neck for a few minutes, and then <em>it<em> happened."

"What did?" Methos asked.

She remembered it only too well. She closed her eyes and suddenly she was back in their living room standing off to the side with Keith and watched as Seth's sword and the one Richie had clanged against one another, the sound would forever be ingrained in her memory, and so would that horrible sight.

"The sword broke," she said, "A dozen pieces flying through the air, we'd never seen anything like it."

"So then what happened?" Methos asked.

"They both had their swords drawn, and they both moved at the same time," Richelle said, "I had an idea."

How she'd thought of it she didn't know, but in the split second that the two men tried to run them through with their swords, Richelle grabbed the coffee table and all but threw it at them. The blades cut through the wood and were stuck, but Richelle couldn't let go of it. Instead she hoisted the table up in the air over their heads, and she kicked Keith in the stomach and knocked him back, and then she brought the whole table crashing down on Seth's head.

"Of course we didn't kill them," Richelle said, "Not permanently anyway. It was warm that day and the windows were open, so we grabbed them and tossed them out the window, and you should've seen them when they hit the pavement. Luckily that was a Sunday when everybody's either in church or still in bed sleeping off hangovers, so nobody saw anything, but when they came back to life, they took the hint and left. We never saw them again."

"And MacLeod never found out?" Methos asked.

"Na," she replied, "I threw away the broken sword…we'd taken their swords so they couldn't try anything, and we put them in the display case instead. Naturally MacLeod could tell the difference, and he demanded to know where they came from, and what happened to the other one, but we never told him. And as for the coffee table…well, if they'd seen that they could've put two and two together…but instead we got rid of that too, and when they came home I told them that I'd tripped and fell on it and broke it. MacLeod believed it, bit my head off for being so stupid, so careless, always breaking something in his home, costing him a fortune in destroyed antiques."

"If he knew…" Methos started to say.

"He wouldn't care," she said, "He doesn't…he doesn't care about either of us, not Richie, but especially not me, he would be only too happy to see me dead somewhere. And in truth he would probably be rapturous if Richie should ever get killed as well. Then he'd be rid of both of us permanently, and he'd have his nice, quiet, peaceful life back again."

She closed her eyes and seemed all but asleep. Methos grabbed at the bedspread and adjusted its fit over her when she opened her eyes again and continued speaking, "Those men, the Immortals who came to the shop."

"What about them?" Methos asked.

"They were brothers," she said, "But that's not possible, is it?" she looked at him, "In all the history of Immortals there were never two born to the same mother, were there?"

"Immortals have no known parents," Methos said, "They're adopted as babies upon discovery."

"But still," she insisted, "They were _brothers_, not like you're brothers with those other freaks but _real_ brothers, they were bound together through birth, and that's not supposed to be possible, is it? It's supposed to be every Immortal for himself, come into the world alone and die alone."

Methos didn't answer her, he only brought the covers up and told her to go to sleep, that it was late. Despite all the time she'd spent in bed it didn't take long for Richelle to fall asleep again, and she did so, on the surface, without a worry in the world, which was more than could be said for Methos. Once he was sure they wouldn't wake up, he left the room and went looking for Kronos. After coming up empty everywhere else it occurred to him that at 3 o' clock in the morning, his brother would be in his bed asleep, so he ran down the hall to Kronos' room, ran inside, and tripped over the footboard and crash landed on the bed alongside his brother, and that woke Kronos up.

"What's going on?" he wanted to know.

"We underestimated those two, Kronos," Methos told him, "And we never knew it, never to what degree."

"What're you talking about?" Kronos demanded to know. It was late, he was tired, and aside from squeezing Methos' neck till it popped like a champagne cork, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

"Keith and Seth St. Cloud," Methos told him.

Even in the dark he could see Kronos' eyes open wider and he knew that he now had his brother's attention.

"What about them?" Kronos asked as he sat up.

"Apparently they paid MacLeod a visit several months ago, but MacLeod was out at the time, and you can guess then who was left to deal with them," Methos said.

Kronos wasn't impressed though. "Obviously they didn't do too well, those bastards are still alive."

"Obviously," Methos agreed, "But wait until you hear what they _did_ do to them."

"And why would that interest me?" Kronos asked.

Methos told Kronos what Richelle had told him and it was slowly becoming obvious to Kronos what his brother's point was. "That's not a basic reflex by any stretch of the imagination, somebody taught them how to deal with Immortals a long time ago."

"And it's not MacLeod," Methos said, "And we both know this wasn't a couple of rookies fresh out of the morgue either, the St. Cloud brothers are over 1,000 years old."

"Yes," Kronos commented, "Ironic how history passed those two up and instead chose to remember that little bastard Xavier instead."

"But what I can't figure out is what those two would want with MacLeod," Methos said.

"Maybe he got _them_ shot in the back in Texas 120 years ago as well," Kronos commented as he lay back down to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next day both Richie and Richelle were in an improved enough state of health that they were able to get out of bed, and once Richie had showered and they'd changed their clothes; the twins left their room and went downstairs and walked into the middle of a conversation about them.<p>

"Time to call MacLeod again?" Richelle asked.

"Well we wouldn't want him to think anything had happened to you two," Methos said with a snicker under his breath.

"Who's going to talk to him this time?" Richie asked.

"Hey I've got an idea," Richelle said as she went over to Kronos, "If you really want to wrack his brain, you ought to send him another note and sign it JMJ, he'd spend weeks trying to figure that one out."

"What the hell is JMJ?" Kronos asked.

"Not what, who," she said, "Who the hell is JMJ?"

"Fine, _who_ the hell is JMJ?"

"JMJ stands for Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Richelle told him, and when he glared at her like he wanted to strangle her all she had to say in response was, "What's the matter, don't you watch Homicide?"

"There's a blind man 6,000 miles away in the jungle who saw that one coming," Methos commented.

Kronos started to reply to that with something else that Methos should've seen coming and was just about to punch his lights out when Methos took a step back and responded with, "You know the rules, not in front of the children."

"Very funny."

"So where are the other two gorillas?" Richelle asked.

"Out," Methos answered her, "Following up some leads we've been getting from our informant."

"How do you know that guy's not just setting you up to get killed?" Richie asked.

"Why do you think they sent Silas and Caspian out?" Richelle asked him, "Come on, let's go eat."

Once they were out of the room, Methos turned to his brother and told him, "Tonight, I want those two put in the war room."

"Whatever for?" Kronos asked.

"You always criticized me for my paranoia, but I think if the Hunters _are_ planning an attack, it's going to be here and it's going to be sooner than we think, and those two aren't in any condition to either fight or try to escape. The war room's the most heavily secured room in the whole house, nobody can get to them in there."

Kronos managed to restrain himself from saying what he was currently thinking about his brother. After another minute had passed he finally said, "Alright, but I don't see what you're getting so worked up about."

"Believe me, I'm just as anxious to be wrong about this as you think I am," Methos said, "But as long as those two are staying here, I'm _not_ going to have their blood on my hands."

* * *

><p>Despite the immense progress that they had made, the twins knew they were still not up to par and didn't feel the part either, so, as not to overexert themselves, they spent most of the day in Methos' room and had a free-for-all with his toys. Richelle had stuck close to the Gremlin dolls and put on a little show for Richie's benefit and rechristened the George and Lenny dolls Caspian and Silas, and had Silas pounding Caspian into next week. Richie tiredly leaned back against the footboard of the bed and just smiled, he was too tired to laugh.<p>

Richelle moved to get up and when she did she noticed something resting in the middle of a table that was covered in Transformers, old metal toy cars, and Star Wars action figures. In the midst of all that was a small electric fan and when Richelle saw it, she started laughing hysterically.

"What is it?" Richie asked.

"I have an idea," she said, "I have an idea, I-have-an-idea. We're going to call MacLeod ourselves, and just to screw with his head, we're going to make him think we're a lot farther away from home than we are."

"What'd you have in mind?" Richie asked.

She quickly explained the idea to him, and also explained that she'd seen it in an old movie Connor had shown her once. Richie thought it sounded crazy but decided it would be worth trying and it might be fun. Richie picked up the phone and dialed the store's number while Richelle got the fan plugged in and found a few sheets of typing paper.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mac!" Richie said, practically grinning from ear to ear.

"Richie! Where are you? Are you alright?"

Richie was momentarily shocked by how worried Mac sounded, and just as he opened his mouth to reply, Richelle yanked the receiver away from him.

"Yo MacLeod, how go things in the fairy forest?" she asked.

"Richelle? Where are you? What's going on?" he demanded to know.

Richelle pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, then she flipped the small fan on and told MacLeod, "Sorry, Oberon, but there's a hurricane blowing down here and you're gonna have to talk louder than that." As she said that she picked up the sheets of paper and fed them into the fan and let the blades beat over them and make a terrible racket as she added sarcastically, "Whew, it certainly is windy down here!"

On the other end of the line, MacLeod was distraught. He pulled the receiver away from his ear for a minute and waited until the noise died down before he asked again, "_Where_ are you? Are you alright?"

Richelle cut off the fan and said into the receiver, "What was that?"

"I SAID WHERE ARE YOU?" Duncan repeated, feeling near the end of his rope.

Richelle looked to her brother and then back at the phone and said to him, "Why? Are you worried about us?"

"Richelle!"

"Because I find that very unlikely that you would be worried about us, that you would care at all if we lived or died," she said, "I'd think you'd be happy with us gone, you have your nice, peaceful, 'normal' little life back and that's what you always wanted, just you and your squeezebox. No responsibility towards anybody but yourself, no concern for anybody except yourself, what you want, you need, nobody to interfere with your boring little plans and your boring little life. Must be nirvana where you are, while we're over here fighting for our lives, trying to keep from getting killed. Though I suppose you would be concerned, for Richie's sake, if anything happens to him then you have to find some new slave to clean your shop, wait on your customers, move your junk, you couldn't possibly do that yourself, no, you need some young whipping boy to do it all for you for what, minimum wage and third rate room and board. But I told you before it's a package deal, either you take us both or they won't release either of us, I guess it just comes down to how much you feel like gambling on double or nothing."

"Richelle, who are they? Where are you?" she heard him reply.

"Did you hear anything I said?" she replied, "I guess not, too bad, I guess they won't be letting us go anytime soon."

She pushed the plunger on the Batmobile and disconnected the call.

"You are evil, you know that?" Richie said, and from the tone in his voice it seemed he was proud of her for it.

"I learn from the best," she responded as she put the phone down.

She moved and her foot met with something hard and she crouched down and found a bowling ball half concealed under the bed. She rolled it out and stuck her fingers in it to see how it fit. She turned to her brother and started to say something when he signaled for her to be quiet and went over to the door. She followed him and they could hear voices coming up the hall. Richelle poked her head out and could see the outlines of Caspian, Silas and a third man coming their way. She turned out the lights and set the bowling ball out on the hall floor and sent it rolling. A few seconds later the twins heard the commotion as first Caspian was tripped by the ball and in turn he fell against the other two and all three of them hit the floor.

"Ste-rike!" Richelle said.

They went out to see who they had bowled over and saw laying in a heap on the floor in a pretzel of limbs were Caspian, Silas and Kronos.

"You did it now," Richie said as he grabbed her by the arm, "Run!"

They took off running down the hall and jumped down the stairs two and three at a time and when they hit the ground floor they just narrowly avoided colliding into Methos. He didn't know what was going on but it didn't stop him from grabbing Richie by the arm and jerking him back so he couldn't escape. Richelle had gotten as far as the kitchen when they heard her make a sudden noise like she was being choked and they saw the reason why when a few seconds later, Kronos came through the doorway with her doubled over on his shoulder, kicking and struggling all the way.

"Alright, what happened?" Methos asked.

"I'm not quite sure," Kronos answered as he put Richelle down, "But I know now what a 9-pin feels like."

* * *

><p>As night approached, the twins were informed that they would be spending the night in the war room instead of one of the regular bedrooms, and neither knew how to respond to this sudden news.<p>

"Is it because of what happened last night?" Richelle asked. Of course they knew what she was referring to; the explosion was taken as a sign that the Hunters were moving closer and determined to kill anyone who got in their way.

"Not exactly," Methos answered, "Although, until you two are fully recovered, I think it would be in your best interest to stay in there incase anything should happen."

"I don't get it," she said, "What makes that room so much safer than the rest of the house?"

He took them into the room and showed them that the windows were made of bulletproof glass and were covered by steel shutters. Then he showed them the locks on the door which by turning one knob sent four bolts of six inch long reinforced steel into place.

"Imported from Italy," he commented cynically.

"Right but if we were locked in, where would that leave you?" Richie asked.

"We have our ways of getting in, but nobody else would," Methos told him.

He then took them over to the bed and showed them that underneath every mattress was a bullet deflector, should anybody from the floor below try shooting straight up.

"All things considered," he told them, "You'll be safer in this room than you would be in Fort Knox."

"Is it going to come to that, though?" Richie asked.

"It might," Methos told him, "Which is why this room was designed so securely in the first place. Now the odds are nothing is going to happen tonight or tomorrow night or for the remainder of your stay here…but you're both in a compromised condition right now and I'm not betting on anybody getting to you in time to help should anything go wrong."

"Boy you're an optimist," Richelle said, "When do we have to be shut in here?"

"That's going to depend on when you two fall asleep," Methos told her.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Richie and his sister to fall asleep, shortly after dinner that night both were conked out on the couch in the living room. Methos knew the odds were they'd probably be up half the night after this, but all the same he let them be until 11 o' clock. He woke the twins up and told them to get ready for bed, but the two would've been content with staying on the couch for the rest of the night because they tried to go back to sleep as they were. He pulled them off the couch and escorted them up the stairs and gave them a slight push into the bathroom. A few minutes later the two came out changed in their nightshirts and with their clothes in hand.<p>

"Now since we're going to be staying in that room all night," Richelle said, "Can we bring anything with us or are we just expected to shut up and go to sleep?"

"By all means," Methos told them, "Get anything you want for the night, it's not a jail cell."

Richelle pulled Richie back to her and whispered something in his ear and he nodded and headed for the stairs.

"What was that?" Methos asked.

"Very simple," she said, "I told him to get the food, and I'll get the toys."

Methos couldn't resist laughing when she told him that. He followed Richie down into the kitchen and it was then that he made a slightly unnerving discovery. At the top in the trash can was an empty bottle for sleeping pills. He remembered that Kronos got them some years ago when he went through a bout of insomnia, and he had an idea what his brother had done with the last few pills tonight. Apparently his brother had seen to it that the twins wouldn't keep anybody up tonight.

* * *

><p>The pills seemed to already be taking effect in Richelle; what was supposed to be a couple of minutes spent getting stuff together for the night turned into twenty minutes of going in and out of consciousness standing up and leaning against the wall. The next time that she opened her eyes she found herself looking out of the window and out into the night. The moon was out that night and she could see all the trees and their shadows on everything, and she could see the expanded space in the vicinity since there weren't any other houses in the area. And then, Richelle thought she was seeing things but she quickly realized she had seen a car's headlights and she opened the window and leaned out slightly as she saw a car slowly driving up.<p>

She saw that the car came to a stop about 50 feet from the house, the headlights stayed on but all became quiet. With the light from the moon shining down on it, she was able to get a very good look at the car. Nobody got out of it and she couldn't see who was in it, but she had an idea. She realized that she was starting to fall asleep again and fought to keep her eyes open. The she heard somebody calling her from off in another part of the house and she realized Methos and Richie were looking for her. So she quickly grabbed their things for the night and left the room to join them.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked.

"You won't be locked in," he told her, "But if anything should happen, you'll know ahead of time so you can lock the door in time."

"How're we going to know that?" Richie asked.

"There's an alarm system," Methos explained, "You'll hear it," he pointed to the closet, "In there is a video monitor that shows who's standing outside this door. Now, are there anymore questions?"

They shook their heads.

"Alright, then we'll see you in the morning."

Richelle tiredly nodded as Methos left and closed the door behind him. She and Richie went over to one of the beds and got in and both were already about asleep already, but before that happened, Richelle turned over and shook Richie's shoulder to get his attention.

"What is it?" he asked.

Richelle looked back to the door to make sure they were alone, then she leaned in towards him and said to him, "Richie, Connor's car is outside."

"What?" he asked.

* * *

><p>Methos had just joined Kronos downstairs when they both felt another quickening nearby.<p>

"Expecting anyone?" Kronos asked him.

Methos shook his head, "You?"

"I don't know anybody," he replied.

They heard a car drive up and both went to the front door and saw the car pulled up right in front of the house with its headlights on and it about blinded them both.

"This should be interesting," Methos said.

Kronos grabbed his sword and Methos likewise grabbed his coat and the two headed outside to see who had come to pay them a visit.

They stood on the front porch and waited as the headlights went off and they saw the driver get out of the car. The door slammed and they saw the figure come around to the front of the car, and even in the dark both Immortals were able to get a good look at their unexpected visitor. The man appeared to be somewhere in his 30s, had short dark blonde hair and was dressed in a gray trench coat, blue jeans and white sneakers, and he had no sword drawn but it was not clear yet what his business was here.

"Well well well," Methos said, sounding mildly impressed with his presence, "Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."


	13. Chapter 13

"Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Methos said.

The highlander took two steps closer to the front porch and looked up at his two hosts, "Methos."

"What brings you here?" Methos asked.

"Wondering if you could help me with something," Connor said as he walked up the steps and placed himself between the two brothers. Kronos rolled his eyes and looked in the opposite direction as Connor spoke with Methos, half of it done with his hands, "I seem to have lost a couple of items, about yea by yea, and they both have red hair. I don't suppose you've seen them, have you?"

Methos couldn't hide the telling grin on his face as he tried not to laugh. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," Connor said, "See I got a call from a particular French woman a couple weeks ago telling me that Thing 1 and Thing 2 are somehow absent from where they're supposed to be; so I decided to take a trip out to Seacouver and check it out for myself, I thought I'd find you around, Methos."

"I'm getting that predictable, am I?" he asked.

"Tessa called again, I told her to extend her stay in Paris for another week or so. Acting on a hunch, I told her that Richie and his sister were with an old friend of mine and we were all having a little fun at my cousin's expense and making him worry. She didn't think much of that but she agreed to stay out of the way so there's no interference. Where are they?"

"They're inside," Methos said, "Come on in."

"Don't mind if I do, but," Connor turned and pointed to Kronos, "I think the question is, is your boyfriend going to mind?"

Kronos' only response to that was a low growl. Methos smirked and shook his head; he had been friends with Connor for almost 300 years, but for the life of everyone involved, Connor and his brothers had never been able to get along with one another. On the rare times Connor imposed on the four Horsemen's daily lives to visit with Methos, he often complained about the icy patch at the door that had rubbed off of the cold shoulder he always got from Kronos, and had several times in the past compared his behavior on these visits to that of a jealous lover. That always got Kronos' blood boiling, and Connor reveled in it.

The three Immortals stepped inside and into the light, and Connor said to Methos, "It's not that I mind what you're putting Duncan through, but I would've appreciated a little advanced notice that you were going to pull this stunt so I would've had some idea what to tell Tessa in the first place, or for that matter, to warn Richie and Richelle about what they had to look forward to when they got off the plane."

"I know, but we couldn't take the chance," Methos told him, "It's getting a lot more dangerous to get in touch with one another anymore, you know how it is with the Hunters."

"Point taken, but why do this then?" Connor asked.

"You better sit down, this could take a while," Methos advised him.

The three Immortals went into the living room and sat down, Methos and Connor on the couch, and Kronos in a chair on the other side of the room.

"First of all I want you to understand that this one was _not_ my idea," Methos told Connor, "I was drafted into it after the fact." He pointed over to Kronos and explained, "This is the psychopath who thought up everything."

"Oh really?"

"You see, Connor, your cousin and my brother have bad blood between them going back to the 1860s, and since we all know so well how long Kronos can hold onto a grudge," he glared over at his brother who only glared back at him as if to say 'what did I do?', and he continued, "The key thing was to make MacLeod suffer, let him worry about someone close to him for a while, put him in a position where he's helpless and see what happens. The initial target didn't matter much, originally we had thought of doing it with the Noel woman."

"That would definitely be hitting him where it hurts," Connor agreed.

"But we decided against it once we saw those two," Methos said, "Decided it might be a bit more interesting that way. And I suspect we couldn't have aimed more accurately there."

Connor looked around the room and said, "I'll bet, and just where _are_ they currently?"

"In bed," Methos answered, "They've been sick."

"With what?"

"I don't know, whatever it was they're coming out of it, nothing particularly serious," Methos said.

"Perhaps not," Connor told him, "But Richelle is a very sick girl and that makes it easy for anything she gets _to_ become serious."

"We know," Methos said. He decided against telling Connor about the incident she'd had with the Hunter on the first day of the fever.

"But you've explained all of this to them, I hope?"

"Of course," Methos answered, "Within time."

"And, how're they taking it?" Connor asked.

"Probably better than you'd expect," Methos told him.

"And they haven't tried to escape?"

"Oh yes, but we've managed to catch them every time," Methos answered, "I note they seem well versed in it, among other things. I take it that Richelle has had a good teacher."

"Well, I had to do _something_ with her," Connor replied cynically, "As long as she's been hanging around I had to find _some_ way to pass the time. Have they been giving you much trouble?"

"Nothing we can't handle, you know that," Methos said, "And in some way I suspect we have less trouble with them than we would with MacLeod's girlfriend."

Connor nodded, "Tessa's a nice woman but she does not do well in stressful situations."

"Probably more fun to terrorize though," Kronos commented, the first thing he'd said since they came into the house.

"You can see not much has changed here," Methos said to Connor, "My brother, almost 5000 years old and his idea of a good time is still scaring women half to death."

"So how long were you planning on keeping them for?" Connor wanted to know.

"Well I'll tell you, Connor, I don't feel comfortable bringing them back just yet, this whole mess with the Hunters is going to boil over soon and then we're going to have a real problem. What I'd like to do is get Horton and a few hundred of his blind followers out of the way before we do that. It's taking a while but we're getting there; a couple nights ago we took out 40 of them with one bomb, couple days before that, 80 dead in a fire caused by 'faulty wiring', it's all adding up."

"And how long before you see getting the leader?" Connor asked.

"That's going to be a bit harder," Methos said, "Unfortunately he's not as stupid as we thought. He's learning to stay behind incase the others die first, that way he can still get away for another time."

"I suppose it would be too much to ask you just kill him in his sleep?" Connor suggested.

Methos shook his head, "He's taken to keeping some extra company around lately. His daughter's staying with him currently, and he probably knows we wouldn't take a chance with an innocent bystander's life. We're trying to figure out a time and a place that we could get him alone, but at the same time it would be nice if when we took him out he had a couple dozen assistants go with him."

"How long do you think it'll take?" Connor asked him.

"We're making some progress overall, I'm guessing a couple more weeks maybe," Methos said, "Don't worry, as soon as it's over, we'll take those two little monsters back where they…" he stopped himself and laughed, "Well, back with your cousin anyway."

"I see, and with all this going on you couldn't possibly see it fit to let me get them out of here," Connor replied.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Methos told him, "But it's important they stay out of sight for the time being, if the Hunters would see them and know they were with you or your cousin…_they_ have no qualms about killing mortals in the crossfire."

"So noted, but all the same I'd like to see them," Connor said.

"Of course," Methos got up, "Follow me." The three of them got up and went to the front hall and up the stairs. "Of course you realize they probably won't be awake, my brother took it upon himself to sedate them so they'll sleep through the night."

"I only want to see them to know they're doing alright," Connor told him, "I'm not going to ask them who killed Judge Crater."

Methos led the way through the upstairs hall until they came to the war room. He quietly opened the door and they saw the lights were still on and the twins were asleep in bed, but that wasn't the only thing they saw.

"Oh my God," Methos said as he saw the partially drunk bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.

Kronos picked up the bottle and apparently he knew it well because he concluded, "They didn't drink enough to do any real damage."

Apparently the mixture of whiskey and sleeping pills had taken their toll because the twins never woke up and hardly even moved. Connor sat down at the foot of the bed and got a better look at them.

"How long have they been sick?" he asked as he pulled the covers down and grabbed Richelle's wrist.

"About a week," Methos answered.

Connor felt Richelle's pulse and seemed satisfied by it because he put her arm back down and pulled the covers up again. Methos got the idea that their company wasn't wanted and he said to his brother, "Come on, Kronos, let's leave them alone for a while."

"What for?" Kronos asked, "This is _our_ house."

"Come on, Puppet Master," Methos said as he grabbed Kronos by back of his collar and jerked him towards the door. Kronos finally took the hint and walked out of his own free will.

Connor shook his head and said to himself, "With friends like that…" He looked down at the brother and sister who were dead to the world. Connor chuckled lightly to himself as he saw them side by side, sleeping like a couple of babies. He slowly pulled the covers back down and grabbed the bottom of Richelle's nightshirt and lifted it up to get a better look at her. It wasn't that he didn't trust Methos, but those friends of his, they were something else entirely. From what he could see all looked well, no cuts or bruises or burn marks. He then proceeded to do the same to Richie and came to the same conclusion.

Richelle lightly groaned as she turned ever so slightly onto her right side.

"You two really are knocked out, aren't you?" Connor asked, and their silence was answer enough for him.

"Well, you didn't want to go back to Duncan," he said to Richelle, "But I think this is overdoing it a bit."

He leaned over and slipped his arms under the twins' backs and pulled them up towards him and held them against him and slowly rocked back with them.

"Don't worry, you two," he told them, "It shouldn't be much longer now. I don't know about the others but I do have confidence in my old friend Methos to pull this off and get you two out of it alive. It seems to be what he does best."

* * *

><p>"Couple of weeks you said?" Connor asked Methos later as he put his coat back on and prepared to leave.<p>

"More or less," he answered, "You said you've been to see your cousin?"

"Yes."

"How is he taking all this?" Methos asked.

"He's a mess, of course!" Connor answered.

"Good!" Kronos replied.

"Ignore him," Methos told him, "He's not going to be happy until he's got MacLeod on the breaking point and climbing the walls."

"Oh believe me, I've been there a few times myself," Connor assured him. Then he remembered something and he reached into his coat pocket, "Before I forget…before I go, if those two are going to stay here for a while longer, you're going to need these." He took a pill bottle out of his coat and gave it to Methos and he automatically identified the white tablets as potassium pills. "Richelle has a tendency to get anemic without these."

"Yes, I know," Methos said as he took the bottle from his friend, "We found out the hard way. We didn't know and she about died on us."

Connor chuckled once and replied, "Been there, done that. She is not going to take those voluntarily so you'll have to hide them in her food."

"So noted," he said, "After the scare she gave us I'm sorry to report we haven't done too well to monitor her, she's had a few close calls as a result, keeps having fainting spells all over the place."

"That's nothing new," Connor told him, "It's a pity she can't get along with my cousin because she is just as stubborn as he is. She'd sooner die than take some pills."

"Before you go," Methos said, "I'd like to have a few words with you," he turned and glared back at his brother and added, "In _private_."

Kronos said nothing and just glared at him in response. Methos led Connor down the hall to a room where they could be left alone, and as if to further drive his point home, he slammed the door a fraction of an inch away from hitting Kronos in the face. He didn't pay much attention to it though as he decided he had better things to do; he climbed the staircase and went into the room beside the war room and turned on the lights. He stopped for a moment and realized he had to give MacLeod's cousin more credit than he did. The dumb Scot knew they were being watched and covered up the two-way mirror peering into the war room. But he and Methos had been in there earlier watching Connor as he visited with the twins, so why this now? What had come up that he decided needed to be hidden from their view?

Curiosity got to him like a cat and he decided to go into the war room and see it for himself. However, just as he grabbed the doorknob, he could hear voices downstairs and he knew Methos and Connor were nearing the front door; and so as to not look suspicious, he went downstairs to help his brother see MacLeod off and made sure he actually left. The words were jumbled as they echoed through the large hallway but Kronos came down in the middle of the conversation as Methos told Connor, "We'll get them back to you as soon as possible."

"Well I don't necessarily agree with what's going on but I do appreciate your concern," Connor replied, "And I'll see you around."

Methos grabbed Connor's hand and shook it as they prepared to depart for the night, but Kronos could see that it was to conceal something he was slipping into Connor's hand.

"What was that?" Kronos asked once Connor was gone.

"What was what?" Methos asked, feigning innocence.

"You gave him something, what?"

Methos leaned in to him and said the answer directly into Kronos' ear. The answer seemed to satisfy him for the time being.

"I'd like to know why you can't get along with him," Methos said.

"I've told you before why, I don't like him," Kronos answered, "I think he's an idiot."

"Well he's _my_ friend and _I_ like him," Methos replied.

"I don't," Kronos said in return, "He's weird."

"You just hate him because of who he's related to," Methos said.

Kronos ignored what he said and continued, "Besides, I don't trust him, when he was in the war room he found the mirror and covered it because he knew we were watching, why? I went over the room and couldn't find anything out of place."

Methos looked at him, the confusion on his face quite obvious, and he went upstairs and into the war room to see for himself. On the surface everything looked the same except for the sheet that Connor had draped over the large mirror on the wall and now lay crumpled up on the floor underneath it. The twins were still in bed and no closer to consciousness now than they had been when Connor had been in with them. Methos went straight to the bed and looked at the two to see if the answer was there as it apparently had something to do with them. He pulled the covers down and saw nothing that hadn't already been there, then another idea hit him and he snaked his hand down between the pillows propped behind Richelle's head and he found something. He pulled his hand out and saw that a candy bar had been stuffed back there, with a note attached.

In Connor's handwriting it read: P.S., between these two they have a real sweet tooth. Methos reached behind Richie's pillow and pulled out a small bag of red licorice as well. He put them in his pockets and crumbled up the note and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Methos didn't know what the noise was that woke him up, he only knew at the instant that he heard it that it couldn't be anything good. He threw the covers back, jumped out of bed and ran out the door and ran into Kronos who was likewise coming out of his room.<p>

"You heard it too?"

"No, I always get out of bed in the middle of the night to run through this damn house," Kronos smacked him, "What the hell do you think?"

They heard somebody groaning down the hall and turned on the lights to see what had happened. Caspian laid sprawled on the floor and Richelle stood over him holding a gun on him.

"What's going on?"

"This moron tried using me as a throw rug and kicked me," Richelle answered.

As Caspian pulled himself to his feet he responded, "I tripped over this idiot, she was lying in the middle of the floor."

"Did you get hurt?" Methos couldn't help asking.

"No!" Caspian replied defensively.

"Oh well, maybe next time." Methos then turned to Richelle and asked her, "And where did you get that from?"

"It was in the room," she said.

Methos took the gun from her and asked her, "What were you doing sleeping on the floor?"

"Anything to get away from that moron I call brother," she said, "He's driving me crazy."

"Doing what?" Methos asked.

"The whole time he's been asleep he keeps humming that damn gravedigger's song, nothing's shutting him up."

"What?" Methos asked, several decibels louder than was necessary.

"You know," Richelle said, "Please Mr. Gravedigger, something or other, that's all I've heard out of him since last night. He won't shut up and I've tried everything short of murdering him. God, I hadn't heard that song for years. And I've turned him on his side, poked him, jabbed him, put a pillow over his face, pinched his nose shut, nothing."

She caught the exchanged glances between the two brothers and she said, "You're not going to tell me that _this_ has something to do with the Hunters."

"It could," Methos replied.

"How?" she asked.

"Never mind," he said as he grabbed her by the arm, "Go back to bed."

"Are you nuts?" she said, "If I have to go back in there I'm going to kill him."

"And the problem with that would be?" Kronos asked.

Richelle looked back at him and then to Methos and muttered to herself, "Cain and Abel."

* * *

><p>Connor laid on the couch in the loft that night and listened to Duncan pacing in the bedroom. When Tessa called him to tell him something was wrong and Duncan didn't, he knew something was wrong, so he gave it a few days and when the situation wasn't any better, he paid a 'surprise' visit out to see Duncan and see how he was doing with Richie and Richelle. And what he saw had surprised him. His cousin looked like death had run him over, then backed up and tried again. He hadn't slept or eaten for days and it was obvious he was embarrassed to admit what had happened; the fact that there was nothing he could do about it had shamed him greatly and it showed.<p>

"How long have they been gone?" Connor asked.

"Almost three weeks, I don't know what to do, Connor," Duncan said, "Whoever's behind this, they say it's not a challenge, they don't want to fight, they apparently want to make me suffer, and it's working. I have no way of finding out who's behind this, or where they are, or why this is happening."

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" Connor asked.

Duncan only shook his head, "I've been trying to think of somebody I've crossed paths with who would do something like this, but I can't think of anyone."

"But you're sure they're still alive?"

He nodded, "They called earlier today, but I can't get them to tell me anything. Richelle is making it impossible, she won't let Richie talk, and she won't tell me anything."

"Well then they can't be in too much danger," Connor said.

"But where are they" Duncan exploded, "That's what I want to know!"

"Calm down!" Connor told him, "Look, I have a few friends in this area who may know something, I'll check with them and see if they've heard anything, and I'll be back soon."

That was what he said, and then he went to see Methos. Somehow he had a good idea that his old friend was at least partially responsible for this. And he'd come back with enough answers to satisfy him for the time being, but he wouldn't let on to Duncan about that.

Connor lay in the dark and spent a few minutes just looking at the ceiling; then he rolled over onto his side and reached over to the coffee table. By his wallet were a couple of photographs and he picked them up so he could see them in the dim light from the streetlight outside the window.

The first picture showed Richie and Richelle when they came out to stay with him that past summer. They had both gotten a dark tan from all their time spent outside and they were dressed in matching T-shirts and shorts and stood side by side with their arms around each other and smiling. Connor leaned back against the arm of the couch and thought back to how different their lives had changed and how radically it had happened over the past year.

* * *

><p>"Your problem," he told Duncan several months back when he had come out to visit, "Is that you never had kids."<p>

The two had taken a walk down to the waterfront and were discussing the fine art of raising teenagers. It had been at that time that Duncan had told him about the impossibility of trying to keep up with both of them at once.

"Excuse me?" Duncan asked.

"Having kids keeps you young, you have to, you spend all your time running after them and eventually you have to catch them."

"They're 18, Connor."

"So what?" he'd replied, "What does that mean? Don't you find it kind of funny how the law yoyos about the legal age?"

Duncan scoffed and said, "You sound like Richelle, she threw a fit last time we went out to a restaurant for dinner because I wouldn't let them have wine."

"Well why didn't you?" Connor asked.

"It's not legal," Duncan said.

"So what? Who's going to tell them?" Connor asked, "There's no harm in a drink with dinner. They weren't the ones driving were they?"

"No."

"So, why didn't you?" Connor asked, "If you're going to say they're not adults so they can't drink, then they're not adults for anything else either."

"It's not that simple," Duncan told him, "And by the way, what would _you_ know about having kids?"

Connor stopped in his tracks and glared at his cousin, but remained pleasant as he told him, "You'd be surprised at what all I do when I'm not stuck babysitting you."

"So you're saying that they drink when they're with you?" Duncan asked.

"Of course, and why shouldn't they? They know what they're doing, they're responsible, nobody's died yet."

"Yet being the key word," Duncan replied.

"Oh you're just being ridiculous," Connor said, "You know what your problem is, Duncan?"

"What?" Duncan asked, the tone in his voice evident that he really wasn't interested in hearing it.

"You don't trust them," Connor said, "You don't trust anybody."

"I trust you," he said.

Connor scoffed and said, "If you were smart, you wouldn't."

"I think being around that girl's scrambled your brains like an egg," Duncan told him, "You don't make any sense anymore."

Connor laughed and replied, "See what I mean? You have to learn to keep up, cousin." And with that, he took off running and left Duncan trying to catch up with him.

* * *

><p>Oh he loved those two little hellraisers. Somebody had to, and he knew that despite Duncan's best efforts, something was still missing there. And Tessa, he knew, loved them both dearly, but there was only so much she could do, especially since her loyalty was still with Duncan; with one it was bad enough but with two it could no longer be a one person job on either side.<p>

He could still remember the day that he met Richelle. He was walking through a crowded street, pushing and shoving and being shoved in a mass of a hundred people, and yet somehow he was still able to tell the exact moment that his wallet started trying to fly south for the winter. In a heartbeat he'd snatched the wrist of the pickpocket and saw it was a teenager with short red curly hair, and for a split second he thought of the boy. Of Richie Ryan, who had been entrusted to the care of his cousin over on the other side of the country. Then it hit him that this was a girl, her hair was up in a Mohawk and her shirt was full of large holes in the back that like the kind wrestlers wore. One good look at her told him that she had no parents, and that she needed the money more than he did.

He didn't want to make a scene in public but before he had a chance to say much to her, a man came up screaming about her stealing bananas from his fruit stand. Connor almost felt like he was on Candid Camera or something, but he gave a couple of bucks to the man and told him to consider his bananas purchased. Once he was gone, Connor kept a hold on the girl's hand and walked her back to his place.

She wasn't willing to talk when they reached his home, so he made it clear to her that he had no interest in turning her over to the cops. He also told her he knew that she didn't have any parents that he needed to call and inquired as to where she _did_ live and with whom, and she still wouldn't answer.

"I can wait," Connor said as he sat down across from her at the kitchen table, "I have a lot of patience. Eventually you're gonna have to talk. What's your name?"

She looked up at him and glared, and he tried a different approach, "Would you like to know my name?" she didn't give any indication either way. "My name is Connor MacLeod."

Why the hell not? Russell Nash hadn't been any good for years, and he'd been going under different aliases for enough centuries that he couldn't foresee any harm in 'another' Connor MacLeod popping up in the world after 480 years.

Connor had a good idea that this kid would hold up well in a police box, she was stone faced and didn't talk, no matter what he tried. Feeling near the end of his rope, he decided to try something else, "Look, it's obvious you don't have a permanent place to stay. I live alone, and there's a spare room upstairs, would you like to stay here until further notice?" She looked down at the table and he took that as a good sign, and he pressed on, "Would you like to go and collect your stuff?"

The girl slowly nodded her head. Connor could guess what was going through her mind at that moment, and he was sure she hadn't ruled out the possibility that he was some pervert or psychopath; but she seemed willing to give it a try and he was eager to find out anything about her that he could. He still couldn't get over how much she looked like that boy back in Seacouver, and he started to wonder.

* * *

><p>New York was a beautiful, yet dangerous, place to live, under any circumstances and in any neighborhood, but the girl led him over to an exceptionally bad neighborhood. He followed her into the house that was falling apart and followed her into the room that had been declared hers. She stuffed what few belongings she had in an old duffle bag and Connor looked around the room and saw the old bed, the rock star posters on the wall, and a large collection of wallets.<p>

"These yours?" he asked.

She didn't answer but he knew she had been the one to steal them from people over who knew how long of a time. Out of curiosity he opened one and saw it had a few hundred dollars in it, and the same was true for a few others and he guessed that she had about $3,000 in them and he whistled and said, "As an apprentice you'd probably do well, Gus Cardinal might even be proud."

"Who?" the girl asked as she turned around.

"She speaks," Connor noted, "Never mind. Just get your things packed and we'll get you a new home."

She saw him pick up another wallet and didn't say anything, but he told her, "I have a feeling you won't be needing these where you're going.

"Well then?" she asked.

"I have an idea the police are going to get a hefty anonymous donation to their lost and found department," Connor told her as he grabbed a box off the floor and poured the wallets into it, "Come on then…"

The girl slung the strap of the bag over her shoulder and said, "Richelle Ryan."

Connor remained professional as he said, "Come on, Richelle," but mentally he was scrambling to remember that the name of the boy back in Seacouver had been _Richie_ Ryan.

* * *

><p>It had been easy to adapt to life with the girl staying with him. It took them a little while to get used to one another but Connor had taken a liking to her almost immediately. She was a child of the streets, bounced around from one foster home to another until she left it all behind and started looking out for herself several years ago; which explained why she chose a career as a pickpocket, she was good at it and she apparently knew a good find when she spotted one. It took her a few days to warm up to him but Connor knew that the new way of life she was becoming accustomed to had helped make that process easier. The first couple of nights she stayed on the couch in his living room, but shortly afterwards he put her in the spare bedroom and gave her complete freedom to do with it whatever she liked short of setting it on fire; for the first time in several weeks she was able to get cleaned up, and he'd taken her to a thrift shop to get her some new clothes since she didn't own anything that wasn't threadbare or full of holes.<p>

The first few nights she stayed in her room and didn't leave her bed, and that was understandable because he had seen the condition of her last one; the damn thing looked like the springs might've been fresh when Truman was president. After that however, he quickly realized that she had a life and it didn't run on a clock, she'd go out at all hours of the night and stay out until the sun was coming up the next morning. He was fine with that, he didn't know who her friends were, and he didn't care, if she wanted to bring them by to meet him that was fine, but he knew she wouldn't and that didn't bother him. He made it clear that he wasn't trying to run her life or tell her what to do, obviously she was old enough and smart enough to figure things out for herself; all he was doing was giving her a place to stay until she decided she was sick of him, and he knew the day would come.

Almost half a century ago, Connor had had the pleasure of raising Rachel up from a child, and while he had no regrets about that, he somehow figured that 'raising' a late teenager would somehow be easier. Apparently he was wrong. Life with this new girl was never boring, but he quickly found out she had a few more surprises to her than he was aware of.

One night he'd gotten a phone call that he must come and pick his 'daughter' up at the subway station, something about a fight but he couldn't make out the details. Remembering his own experience with the police only a few years ago after the Madison Square Garden incident, he hoped he was able to beat the cops to the station so they wouldn't be the first ones to get to her and try beating the crap out of her.

It had been several years since he'd seen the inside of a subway station and his eyes had to readjust to the bright lights as he went down. He was surprised to see that nothing seemed awry; there were no cops, no dead bodies, no large groups of people asking questions, everything looked status quo, and then he saw Richelle a few feet away from one of the platforms. She looked like she'd been sprawled out on her back and had just managed to pull her upper body into a sitting position. Connor was quick to notice that her jacket was ripped and there was blood under her nose and out the corner of her mouth, and a few streaks of blood in her hair as well. Typical New Yorkers, nobody saw anything and if they did, nobody noticed. When she saw him coming her way, she didn't move but he could see a growing sensation of panic in her eyes, like she expected to be dragged outside and beaten all over again. He tried to be lighthearted about it and smiled at her as he said, "So what does the train look like?" When she didn't say anything, he tried again, "Are you alright?"

Unfortunately this was nothing new, he'd quickly found out any time Richelle seemed to be in a spot, she shut down on anyone who was around her and asking questions, just like when they'd met. Finally, she nodded, which surprised him.

"Can you get up?" he asked.

Richelle said nothing and didn't shake her head either way, instead she tried to push herself up on her hands. Connor grabbed her by her jacket and helped her to her feet. He had her look up into the light so he could get a better look at her.

"You look like you'll live," he told her, "Come on, let's go home."

For the most part she showed no signs of response but he caught the small change in her eyes that clearly said she was not expecting that. She followed him out of the station and over to his car. It was his Porsche so there wasn't any backseat for her to stretch out in, so for the duration of the ride home she sat beside him but wouldn't look at him. The top was down and as they drove along in the night, a bit above the speed limit, the lights of the city all seemed to ricochet down on them.

Once they were gone a ways, Connor glanced over at her and said, "So are you going to tell me what happened or do we have to play 20 questions?" When she looked to the side he said, "Fine, I like this game, I know a lot of questions." There was a pause for a couple more blocks before he asked her, "Did somebody try and push you off the platform?"

She shook her head slightly so he had to pay attention to notice.

"No, huh? Okay, let me guess, you didn't like the way somebody looked at you."

She didn't give any indication as to the answer for that one.

"What were you doing at the subway station?" Connor asked, "Going somewhere?"

Again, nothing.

"Going to be a long night," Connor said, more to himself than to her.

For some reason, that seemed to break the ice. Connor about jumped out of his skin when Richelle suddenly told him, "These four guys came out and jumped me. We got in a fight, and they took off, that's all there is to it."

He wasn't sure that he believed that, he inquired, "Are you sure?"

She nodded and tried to joke, "I think they got scared when they saw the blood."

"You know them?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Well it's none of my business," he told her, "But I don't want you hanging around the subway, lot of weird people live down there, and believe me I know." He reached over with his right hand and wiped some of the blood off her cheek with his fingers, it was already drying and in the process making her skin tighter than hell. "How badly did you get hit?"

She snorted and shrugged, "Nothing broken."

When they got home, Connor had her take her clothes off and get in the shower, he'd toss her clothes in the wash and, as this was still early on during her stay there, find something for her to sleep in. When she'd disappeared in the bathroom, he'd gone to his room and dug out a long T-shirt that was a size large on him, it would do for the night; as far as he knew she preferred to just sleep in her underwear but those would have to be washed too no doubt. When she emerged from the bathroom a short while later, both were taken aback at how the shirt fit her like a large nightgown and each took a couple of times to look down at how it fit her.

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm very disappointed," Connor cynically told her. He briefly examined her and determined her wounds were largely superficial and in a couple of days she would be fine. He helped her into bed and covered her up and told her to stay there until the morning. In ten minutes she was out like a light, and when he knew she wasn't going to wake up, he went to his own room and rummaged through his drawers until he found what he was looking for. Returning to her room, in the light he held up the photograph that Duncan had sent him of the boy he'd taken in, Richie Ryan.

"My God," he quietly said as he compared the picture of one to the other. The two were too similar for it to be a coincidence. Thinking back, Connor recalled a few mentions that his cousin had made in reference to Richie also getting into fights that were more than he could take on. He'd made up his mind at that time that sometime soon they just _had_ to get these two together to meet.

* * *

><p>He hadn't planned to tell her that he was over 400 years old but that decision quickly came one day when he was using a kitchen knife and slipped and suffered a deep cut and she saw his hand heal. She had stood on the opposite side of the counter from him and just stared at him like she hadn't even noticed it. Connor didn't panic but he grabbed her before she could run out and had her sit down while he explained. He imagined telling his biggest secret to this virtual stranger was about as awkward as parents felt talking to their kids about sex, but somehow he managed to get through it without her moving a muscle in her deadpan face. Somehow, for some reason, she seemed to believe him, but the problem was he couldn't tell her about one part of his Immortality without also explaining the other and uglier part as well.<p>

"You kill people?" she asked.

"Not often and I don't enjoy it, but it is necessary," he told her, "They're not random people, they're others like me, who also can't die unless their heads are cut off. Don't ask me how it ever got started but someone about nine thousand years ago got an idea started that if all the Immortals kill each other off, then the last one standing will receive the Prize, only nobody knows what it is, they can only guess. All the same, some of them just won't listen to reason, and there's no length they won't go to in order to be one step closer to getting the Prize."

Now was when she started to doubt what he was telling her, and he decided to show her. He went over to a drawer in the wall and pulled out a gun; Richelle flinched because she thought he was going to shoot her but she didn't move. Connor pressed the gun against her body but with the trigger by her own finger and she realized he had the muzzle aimed at himself.

"Go ahead, pull it, you'll see," he told her, "Death is not permanent for my kind, do it and watch."

She tried to push the gun away but all the same it wound up going off and he fell back with a bullet in his chest; he was dead before he hit the floor. It only took a few minutes but by the time he revived, Richelle was about to hit the ceiling. Connor wasn't about to take a chance on her running out and repeating what she'd seen to anybody so he spent the next few hours going over it with her again down to every last detail that he could think of, and they wound up going over everything several times. By the time Connor finally stopped, it was late at night and Richelle was falling asleep; for the time being he was convinced that she'd keep his secret. In the days to come he told her much about his time spent with Ramirez and about the Kurgan, resulting in her drawing conclusion that he wasn't smart enough to make all of this up so she had to take his word for it.

Connor held off for a couple of months before telling her about his cousin in Seacouver and how Duncan and his girlfriend Tessa were currently trying to cope with taking in a teenaged boy who looked very much like her and had the same name she did. At the time he decided she'd already had enough new information to confuse the hell out of anybody, no sense in further complicating things any.

* * *

><p>For the time being he only dealt with having her in his life, and the more he was around her the more he realized what a serious person she was; not uptight but he couldn't recall more than a couple of times that she didn't look like she'd just had her wisdom teeth extracted with a screwdriver. A miserable way of life for somebody so young, he thought. And after giving it a bit more thought, he came up with a solution to make her loosen up; they got in the car and he wouldn't tell her where they were going but he took her out to Coney Island and they went on the Cyclone. As the car climbed up to the drop point, Connor noticed that Richelle was finally starting to show some emotion: fear, he could tell that she was beyond petrified and didn't dare move or even speak. And when they hit the 85 foot drop at 60 miles an hour, though he'd gone on this ride hundreds of times since it was first built in 1927, he screamed at the top of his lungs and she turned to look at him. In that instant two things had happened; when he screamed, the one that had built up in her had died out as nothing more than a sharply exhaled breath, and she smiled though she was still too scared to laugh. That had done the trick to break the ice and when they returned to the ground, she finally started to talk and started to resemble the smart mouthed punk his cousin now knew her to be. From that point on, for a while anyway, they had a good time living together.<p>

And then came that day when Connor found Richelle sprawled out on the couch and he couldn't wake her up. He'd rushed her to the hospital and it was then that he found out that her health was far less than perfect. Before the doctors had told him the diagnosis, they'd stepped out of the room for a moment and Connor took that opportunity to perform his own examination on Richelle. Ever since she'd moved in he'd wondered about her and with them being the only two people in the room, he removed her hospital gown and looked her over. What he found satisfied him: no scars, no bruises, no burn marks, no needle marks, and she was slightly underfed but no bones stuck out that shouldn't. Obviously she'd found some way to look out for herself and do a damned good job of it, which was more than could be said for most of the street kids he knew. He'd just gotten her back into her gown when the door opened and the doctor told him what they'd found.

"Does she know she has this?" Connor asked.

"We checked, she's been hospitalized for it previously, she knows," the doctor said as he shook his head, "It would be nice if she'd follow orders though."

Once the doctor gave Connor a long lecture of what Richelle had to look forward to unless she started taking supplements, one thing he realized was that she was indeed an odd one; based on her history of visits to hospitals and doctors, where other people in this condition would suffer paralysis, she did not and only suffered from fainting spells, odd, but he considered that lucky compared to what she could be facing.

"So," Richelle had told Connor when she woke up, "Now I know your dirty little secret, and you know mine. Maybe I'd be better off if I were like you, after all once you're Immortal you never get sick anymore, right?"

"No," Connor told her, "You don't, but you'd have a lot more problems if you were Immortal."

"People coming after me to kill me?" she asked, "I got that already, that comes from living in New York, that is nothing new."

"The way they'd try to kill you would be though," he reminded her.

"Whatever," she brushed him off, "It seems to me you guys make this whole Game thing harder than it has to be. You've got guns, why don't you just shoot your enemies and kill them while they're down? How much easier can you get than that? I think I'd make a good Immortal, and it's got to be better than the life I've got, just waiting for death to come, either from old age or more likely because of a damn nutritional imbalance. Live hundreds of years in perfect health, hell yeah, I'd go for that if it was possible."

* * *

><p>She was stubborn as an old mule, or for that matter, as his cousin, but Connor loved that girl and wouldn't have it any other way. He knew that Duncan had a strong paternal feeling towards Richie and that he was proud of the boy, to be sure, even if he had a damn poor way of showing it, and Connor also knew that he felt exactly the same way about Richelle. He laughed about it when it hit them that what they seemed to have was like a case if they had been married and divorced and each took one kid with them to make the split even. Of course, he knew that what Duncan saw and what he saw were often two entirely different things. When she walked into the antique shop it was with an air of self assuredness about her; the air that all young people wore that said they were smarter and better than everyone else, but Connor knew better. As he readjusted his position on the couch he thought back to when he tried to teach her to drive.<p>

Apparently he had been Richelle's first exposure to a real person who had money. Instead of just a wallet with a few large bills she saw a man who had a large house full of old antiques, on his own piece of property away from neighbors, and a large garage with two dozen different cars in it, most of them speedsters more suitable for racing than actual on-road driving. For obvious reasons both had agreed it wouldn't do trying to teach her how to drive in his Porsche, so instead they got into his Mercedes and were about to see how well Richelle would do for her first lesson when Connor thought to ask her, "Have you ever driven a car before?"

"Once," she answered.

"Good."

"Right into a tree," she added.

They looked at each other and each waited for the other to move first; Connor just smiled cockily at her and they returned their eyes to the road.

"Calm down," he told her, "Don't be so nervous."

"That's easy for you to say," she said, "If we crash, you'll survive."

"We're not going to crash," Connor told her.

"Oh yeah? Well what happens if I hit the gas instead of the brakes and we go off the road and straight into a building?"

"See that's why I'm not teaching you how to drive a stick shift," Connor said, "Because if that would happen…" Connor reached over and grabbed the wheel and stepped on the brake. "Okay?" Richelle nodded. "Alright, just relax, now let's get the hell out of here."

Richelle did have a point, without Connor worrying for his own life he found it much easier to take all the speeding and the swerves not so seriously. For the most part all went well until they returned home and Richelle turned in too quickly and they wound up jumping the whole curb and in the process broke off several pieces of it. Connor hit his head against the car's roof but otherwise he was unshaken by the incident.

"That was good," he told Richelle, "But have you ever considered getting a motorcycle?"

* * *

><p>And then, Connor also remembered the first time that Richie had come out with them to New York. They'd gotten in the car and drove back from the airport, and somewhere along the way Richie had inquired about being able to drive the car.<p>

"Good idea!" Richelle cynically replied, "I always wanted to find out if there's life after death!"

Connor watched them from the rear view mirror and just chuckled.

"Of course," she told her brother and pointed to the front, "It isn't much better with _him_ driving either."

That really made Connor laugh, "And what's wrong with the way I drive?"

"You never saw that movie Subway, did you?" Richelle asked as she leaned forward to see him.

"No," he replied, eyeing her in the rear view mirror, "Did you ever see The Road Warrior?"

Richie didn't get what the connection was but it had made his sister sit back down and shut up until they got home.

* * *

><p>Connor remembered those first days well; by now the twins knew the whole commute-process like the back of their hands but the first time Richie flew with them to New York, he was nervous about the trip. It had been his first time on an airplane, and Richelle hadn't had much more experience on them than he had. Richelle wouldn't admit to being scared of anything but one thing Connor had quickly found out was that she had an unbelievable fear of heights. Unfortunately she had also found out one way to cope with that was to make everyone else around her even more nervous; that was when she started acting like they were in the Twilight Zone and screaming about somebody on the wing of the plane ripping the engines apart. That, he'd found out, was nothing a couple drinks couldn't cure and so anytime they flew now she tried to do it half-lit.<p>

New York had been a culture shock to Richie, who had spent all his life in Seacouver, and so had life at Connor's home especially. One of the first things the boy quickly found out was that there was a world of difference in the two MacLeods, and life with Connor was a lot more lenient than it was with Duncan. Rules were practically non-existent and chores were straight out the window. Richelle had been right when she first met Richie, Connor had a cleaning woman come twice a week to tidy up the house, but the bedrooms remained untouched.

Richie was slowly starting to find out that all had not been an act at the loft and when Duncan and Tessa would be the living dead after being up all night because of his and Richelle's antics, Connor truly could sleep through anything they did. They could come and go at all hours of the night and do as they pleased and without having to check with him. Oh Connor knew that by the time they went back to Duncan, both would be reluctant to behave, but where he was concerned, that made it all the more fun. Having these two knuckleheads around sometimes made him feel like a grandfather, and he knew well that it was the grandparent's job to completely undermined any and all rules of the parent's. He could admit to being an evil bastard in his old age, that was half the fun in having a younger family member.

Richelle had tried hard to sell her brother on coming out to where they lived, telling him about all there was to see and do and how much of it Connor was in for, and Richie had found out shortly after arrival that it hadn't just been a selling point. In the two weeks he first stayed with them, Connor had either taken or accompanied them to movies, to a baseball game, to a wrestling match at Madison Square Garden, and to Coney Island and all three of them went on the Cyclone. Connor wouldn't tell them about the more painful parts of his past but he did make it clear to them that he had been through enough hell in life that if there was one thing he got out of living so long, it was that he'd learned how to have fun. Something, he added, that his cousin would do well to learn in his lifetime also.


	14. Chapter 14

Several miles away that night, Richelle was also awake and thinking about the past. She had made her bed on the couch downstairs to get away from Richie for the remainder of the night and now she tossed and turned in the dark as she tried to get comfortable. But the more time passed she realized that she wasn't really tired, and even if she was it was possible that all the thoughts running through her mind wouldn't allow her to sleep anyway. She didn't know why but for some reason when she'd woken up that night, she couldn't stop thinking about Connor and when she'd moved in with him. She also thought back to those first days with Connor, and with Richie. It seemed like a lifetime ago though it had hardly even been a year.

There weren't many things she had done in her life that she regretted thus far, but there was one thing that was bothering her now; when she had told Methos about their encounter with the St. Cloud brothers, she mentioned that they had never told Duncan what had happened, and that was when it occurred to her that they never told Connor about it either. Looking back now she couldn't think of why they hadn't told Connor once they went back home to New York; he wouldn't judge them for what they had done, and he wouldn't get mad at them, but…she didn't know, maybe there was a chance he would tell Duncan what they had done, maybe that was why they'd kept their mouths shut. Of course, she thought, if he was going to rat them out to Duncan about anything, she would think it would've been about that party they'd had at the loft when Duncan and Tessa were gone for the weekend last spring and about destroyed the whole damn house; but he'd kept quiet about that as well as everything else. Now she was sorry that they hadn't told him, but it had been too long ago for it to do them any good now.

She remembered the other night how she had told Methos that she was in no hurry to go back home like Richie was, it occurred to her that when she had spoken, it was strictly in terms of going back to the antique shop. She had never mentioned Connor or New York, maybe she hadn't _allowed_ herself to think of it at the time. She had prided herself on having no roots to hold her down but the more she thought of it, she realized she was getting homesick, for New York, for Connor's house, to see Connor again, _him_ she missed. But she also knew now that part of the reason she hadn't said anything about that then was she was trying to protect Connor. Undoubtedly the Immortals knew _something_ about him but she didn't know how much and she was going to hope it wasn't as much as she thought. There had to be some reason that Connor's Watcher reports were almost empty when Duncan's were as telling as the National Enquirer, no detail omitted, no stone unturned.

There was no way in hell she was going to admit that she didn't mind living here with these four boneheads, that in fact she _liked_ staying with them for the time being, but she was starting to realize also just how much she missed her own home. Oh, she'd said long ago that it wasn't _her_ home, not _her_ house, it was Connor's, and everything about it was Connor's and that she was only staying with him until he got sick of her or she of him, but she was realizing that wasn't true either. She liked Connor, he wasn't a father to her and he never tried to be, but whatever he was, she was thankful for it. The first time she'd seen him kill another Immortal, she'd known why it was done and had to be done, but it was still an unsettling thing to have to witness; in time she'd been able to deal with it and over time she'd actually gotten used to it. She hadn't realized just how used to this new way of life she'd adapted until that day that the St. Cloud brothers came looking for Duncan and they took on the fight instead.

Could Richie have actually cut their heads off? She doubted it, could she do it? She doubted that also, but if it was a choice between that and something happening to Richie, yes, she would do it. She would do anything possible if it meant saving her brother, family was always a different matter entirely. And she realized that was easy for her to say due to the fact that she hadn't _had_ a family for long. Perhaps if she and Richie and known each other all their lives it would be different, but she didn't think so; she liked to think that she would still risk her own life for his if push came to shove. Given a choice, she wasn't sure if she would've wanted a brother, but she was thankful for the one she had.

She also remembered the past summer when Richie stayed with them in New York. They'd gone out of state for the 4th of July and spent the night blowing stuff up with bottle rockets and cherry bombs and didn't get back until the sun came up the next morning. They'd spent a lot of time down on the beach and by the end of the days they looked like a couple of lobsters because they never remembered to put on sun lotion. The hot sun and the uncomfortable sand suddenly became very appealing to her, instead of this frigid weather they were stuck in now. She couldn't wait to get out of here, the sooner they could get back home, the sooner she, Richie and Connor could hightail it to Belize where right now it should be a nice 90 degrees in the shade.

Richelle looked up to the ceiling and wondered what was going on with Richie right now. She wondered if he'd finally shut up and was asleep again; suddenly she didn't like the idea of him being alone and quietly, so she wouldn't wake the four morons up, she climbed the stairs and made her way along in the dark and back to their room. She pushed the door open and was just about to head in when she got another idea, and she crept along until she came to Methos' room and saw the door was ajar. She crept in and made her way around in the dark and found what she was looking for; those papers that he'd gone to the auto junkyard to find, she grabbed them off the table and took them with her into the war room. There, she closed the door behind her and hit the lights. Richie was still passed out in the bed and showed no signs of waking up soon; Richelle collapsed on the bed next to his and read over the papers to see what Methos had been so anxious to find out.

* * *

><p>The next morning when Richelle told Richie what she had planned, he shook his head and told her she was crazy and going to get them both killed.<p>

"That's what you say," she told him, "And Methos and Kronos say we're going to get killed if we go back home because of these bastards the Hunters. This is a list of where they meet up, and Methos has been checking off the places that they've hit and killed them. The next place he has on the list is a house over on 49th Street, and from the description it sounds like it's pretty out of the way, nobody's going to see anything, nobody's going to hear anything, nobody's going to know anything, it's perfect."

"For them," Richie replied, "What are _we_ going to do there?"

"He made notes," she showed him the makeshift blueprints on the paper, "They're going to set a bomb here in the center of the house and set it to blow at 9 tomorrow night."

"Right, so?" Richie asked.

"So I say we beat them to it," she said, "I say we go over to the house and see what the place is, if there's anybody there _now_."

"And do what exactly?"

"Didn't you ever set anything on fire as a kid?" Richelle asked, "You know how dry everything is this time of the year, you light one match and POOF, it's the Towering Inferno."

"Richelle," Richie tried not to sound as annoyed with his sister as he was, "If it was that simple don't you think _they_ would've done it first?"

"They make everything harder than it has to be," she told him, "They like to show off. Think about it, Richie, the sooner these bastards die, the sooner we could get out of here and go back home."

"You're forgetting something else," Richie told her, "Every single time we've tried to escape from this place, we've gotten caught. What's going to make this time different?"

She grinned like the Cheshire cat as she explained to him, "I have an idea about that."

"Uh-oh."

* * *

><p>Methos had been up most of the night after Connor had left and now, about 20 hours later it was starting to show; he'd decided to lie down for a while and get some sleep but no sooner had that happened, he was rudely awakened by the door being thrown open, slamming against the wall, and Kronos storming in and demanding to know, "Did you tell him?"<p>

Methos shot up in bed and groaned as he tried to open his eyes. He grumbled something about his brother should've been a bugler in the army and when he was actually able to see Kronos, he asked him, "What?"

"Did you tell him!" Kronos repeated.

"Tell who what?" Methos asked, ready to fall back asleep.

"MacLeod! That's who!"

"Oh him," Methos tiredly responded, "Tell him what?"

"You know damn well what, did you?"

Now Methos was starting to put together what Kronos was babbling about and he looked him in the eyes and answered in a deadly seriousness, "No, I didn't tell him anything about that."

"Then _what_ were you talking to him about _in private_ last night?"

Methos looked to the side and laughed and said to him, "This is why Connor always says you're jealous, my God you'd think we were married! The second I step out of the room!" Methos didn't get to finish his sentence because Kronos cut him off.

"What did you tell him?" Kronos demanded to know.

Methos got up and went over to his brother and got in his face as he very calmly and very matter-of-factly told Kronos, "That is none of your business."

Methos had subconsciously brought his wrists up to block when Kronos tried to grab his throat and choke him, and he jumped back towards the closet.

"I was married 67 times and never had _near_ the trouble with any of my wives, or for that matter, all of them combined, as I do with you," Methos told him as he opened the door.

"What're you doing?" Kronos asked.

"I'm getting out of here for a while," Methos told him as he pushed the hangers aside to grab his coat. It was then that he seemed to notice something was wrong.

"What is it?" Kronos asked, noticing the visible change in his brother.

Methos didn't tell him, his brown leather jacket was gone, the one that Richie always had to wear when they went out because he didn't have one of his own. And it was then that he remembered earlier that day he'd heard Silas make some comment on not being able to find his long coat either.

"Oh no," he said as he turned and ran for the door.

He should've known he couldn't get rid of his brother that easily though, Kronos was right behind him, demanding to know what was wrong.

"They've gotten out!" Methos told him as they reached the foot of the stairs.

"What?"

"My jacket and Silas' coat are gone, you can figure out what that means!" Methos said, realizing now that he hadn't seen either of the twins for a couple of hours.

The panic was short lived and quickly replaced with fury when they saw the front door open and in stepped Richie and his sister; as guessed, Richie wore Methos' jacket, and Richelle had on a large black trench coat that was so long that it dragged behind her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" was the first thing out of Kronos' mouth.

Richelle was very cynical as she waddled over to him and answered, "Eh relax, Giggles, we just went for a little walk."

"I'll just bet," Kronos said as he grabbed her by the back of the coat and threw her forward, "Get over here."

Richelle hit the table and planted her hands on the surface to keep her balance; Kronos took that opportunity to force her legs apart and search her. Methos grabbed Richie so he couldn't try anything and they both watched as Kronos reached into the various pockets both inside and out on Silas' coat and pulled out half a dozen apples, one bunch of bananas, two boxes of crackers, two cans of artichoke hearts, a jar of olives, several cans of beer, a can of cherries, two dozen candy bars and a jar of strawberries. During the groping, Richelle had raised her arms over her head like she was being frisked by the police. Kronos wasn't satisfied that this was it and he knelt down and snaked his hands up under the bottom of the coat and between her legs. Richelle howled in laughter as she squirmed under his touch and both Immortals were surprised when he came back up to see that he had pulled out a small frozen turkey still in its carrying net.

"You can't be serious," he said.

Richelle turned around to face him and replied, "If I had to live on the food you keep on hand I'd rather starve to death." She fell back against Methos as Kronos tried to grab her and she said, "We came back didn't we? That should tell you something." She looked down when she felt something that wasn't right and she told Methos, "If you don't move that hand you're not going to get it back."

"Sorry," Methos tried not to laugh, "Now that was a cute little stunt," he told her, and grabbed her by the hair to get her attention, "But if you ever try it again…"

"Yeah," she said as she broke away from him, "I have a pretty good idea what would happen then. Come on, Richie." And with that, the two of them all but jumped up the stairs.

"My God," Methos said once they were out of sight and out of earshot, "What the hell is going on around here?"

Kronos did not seem as concerned and said only, "You were the one who didn't want to keep them tied up during their stay here."

* * *

><p>"Well for a test run I'd say that went over fairly well," Richelle told her brother when they returned to the war room.<p>

"Yeah but I still don't see why," Richie said as he took several boxes of red food dye out of the pockets of his jacket, "You had me take these from the store, what're we going to use them for?"

"You'll find out when the time's right," she said, "Besides, you had to carry them because I knew they wouldn't search _you_ when we got back."

"But now they're going to look for us to get out again, then what? How're we supposed to get out again now?" Richie asked.

"I'll figure something out," she said, "Though without Crunch and Brunch around it should be a bit easier. It's only those two now so we're more evenly matched." She paused for a minute to think before coming to a conclusion, "I've got an idea, follow me."

"Where're we going?" Richie asked.

"We're going to get out of here _now_ and go check the place out," she said, "They'll never look for us to do it twice in one night."

* * *

><p>They went back to Methos' room where the windows could actually be opened and, after finding a flashlight and having a quick look to make sure there wasn't anybody on the grounds, they slipped out and climbed down and hit the ground running. It was dark and for the most part they couldn't see too well where they were going; they didn't dare turn on the flashlight until they were far from the house, but once they got back into civilization where there were lighted houses and buildings, and street lamps, they were able to figure out which way to 49th Street. And when they finally got there, they saw that the house in question was, as Richelle had told her brother, out of the way from anybody or anything else for quite a ways, and it was huge.<p>

"They're going to blow this place up tomorrow night?" Richie asked.

"That's right," Richelle said, "Let's see if anybody's home _tonight_ and do them a favor."

Right away they noted there were no cars around, and no lights on, but they went up on the porch and tried the front door and found it was unlocked. Quietly, they made their way inside and tried to see in the dark.

"Alright, we're here," Richie told her, "So where do we look for the bastards?"

"I don't know," she said, "But I wouldn't suggest splitting up to find out. We'll check down here first."

They walked a little ways through what they presumed to be the dining room and into the kitchen, and so far neither heard anything so they took that as a good sign. They decided it was safe enough for the moment anyway to turn on the flashlight and make sure they weren't walking into a trap. The light hit the opposite side wall and they saw that the place looked slightly run down but otherwise everything seemed normal here. Richelle went over to the knife rack above the stove and pulled out the largest butcher knife she could get her hands on; and both knew that if necessary, she would use it, she would've preferred something more practical but for the moment this would have to do.

They found a room in the back that the door was either stuck or warped and they about had to break it down to get it open. Richie shone the light in and they saw buckets of a gray powder placed all over the room.

"What is it?" he asked his sister, "Ashes?"

She shook her head, "Aluminum powder."

Richie couldn't figure it out, he asked her, "What does that mean?"

"It means they know we're here," she said, and they ran out of the room.

"That's not part of _their_ plan," Richelle said, "They're going to blow this place up, not burn it down. That stuff is highly flammable, any idiot would know that, and I didn't see any buckets of sand or dirt to put out any occurring fires started by it, which means they intend to set this place on fire and burn it to the ground."

Richie turned the flashlight on his sister and asked her, "And how would you know that?"

"I used to make rockets with the stuff," she told him, "About burnt the whole damn house down but it sure was fun."

"Figures," Richie said as he turned the light back to see the room, "My sister the pyromaniac."

"They have to know that the Immortals are onto them," Richelle told him, "Which means they're probably going to light it up when they come here to set the bomb. We've got to get back to the house and warn them."

That plan however, quickly met with futility because they could hear footsteps outside and people coming. Richie turned off the flashlight and they scurried out to the front hall, Richie tried for the door but Richelle grabbed him and jerked them both upstairs instead.

"Are you nuts?" he asked, "We have to get out of here."

"If we're surrounded, we're not going anywhere," Richelle told him, "There's a small roof over the porch, if we can drop down from up here, we might be able to get away without them seeing us."

They reached the top of the stairs and opened the first door nearest them and found themselves in the bedroom overlooking the front yard. They opened the window and looked out and saw, as Richelle had guessed, once out through here they could hit the roof's porch and from there…they could see a pickup truck and a car up in the dirt yard. It was unlikely the keys would've been left in either one of them but it might be worth a try.

"So how're we going to do this?" Richie asked, and he turned and saw his sister was looking towards the stairs, "What is it?"

"They're coming up," she said, and she pushed him, "You get out of here and get back to the house, I'll hold them off."

"I heard that one before," Richie reminded her.

"Just do it!" she quietly told him.

He didn't like it, but he knew he could probably get back to the house quicker than she could. He jumped out the window, hit the roof below with a pronounced thud, and hit the ground running. Richelle dug her fingers into the handle of the butcher knife and got ready to kill whoever came through the door.

But nobody came up, she could hear some kind of ruckus on the floor below but nobody was coming up the stairs. She stood at the top and listened and tried to figure out what was going on on the floor below, but it just sounded like a muffled clattering and distant voices. Richelle backed away from the stairs so she couldn't be seen and decided to search the rest of the rooms and make sure there wasn't anyone else up here spying on her. She turned on the flashlight and opened doors and one by one saw rooms with hardly any furniture that didn't look like anybody was living in them. And they probably weren't, this house was supposed to be a meeting place for the Hunters, it didn't mean anybody actually stayed here.

One by one she went through the rooms and eventually found herself at the back of the house and she seemed to be at a dead end. The noises downstairs had stopped and she couldn't hear the voices anymore, and she wondered if they had left. Then she heard another noise, but she wasn't sure at the time what it was; unfortunately she quickly found out what it was when she heard the same SWOOSH noise again as the back of the house suddenly exploded into flames. For an instant she was frozen in awe but reality quickly set in and she headed back for the stairs, and when she did she saw that the downstairs was already on fire as well and the black smoke was billowing up towards her. She headed for the first bedroom but just before she crossed the threshold it too became a fiery dead end.

Forcing herself not to panic she tried to remember what she'd learned years ago about heat and smoke rising and decided her best bet would be to try the front door as the front hall was the only part she could see that hadn't been engulfed in flames yet. The fire was spreading quickly and she knew it wouldn't be long before the whole house was burning down and she had to act fast. She had just started down the stairs when out of nowhere a sudden burst of fire shot down the stairs. Richelle jumped back in a panic and hit the banister hard enough that it broke away and she fell down to the first floor and was almost paralyzed in the fall as her back slammed against the linoleum floor.

Richelle was in an amount of pain that she couldn't even begin to register, she didn't know if anything was broken but knew she had to get to the front door or else she would succumb to smoke inhalation before being burnt to death. The door was only about five feet away, so she forced herself to turn over onto her stomach and she tried dragging herself across the floor, but found she was only able to pull herself along a few inches at a time. She only made it halfway to the door before reality kicked in of the futility of her escape attempt. The smoke was starting to reach her and she was already fighting with unconsciousness and knew that she was going to die here and now, and despite every ounce of her screaming for escape and survival, she collapsed on the floor and started to black out, her last thoughts being of her brother, who she hoped had gotten away.

* * *

><p>Richelle felt like she was being woken up from a dream. She felt tired and could hardly get her eyes open, but she suddenly became aware of somebody grabbing her by the arms and pulling her along the floor on her back. Almost the whole house was covered in bright orange and yellow flames and the smoke was everywhere; Richelle threw her head back and looked up and saw much to her disbelief, that it was Caspian pulling her out of the fiery mess. Once at the door, he grabbed her and picked her up and ran out into the night, and without a moment to lose.<p>

As they got outside, Richelle was able to make out other figures in the yard and realized it was Methos and Silas, who were knocked back when a few seconds later the entire house erupted in flames that shot far out past the limitations of the house and high above the rooftop and the house was already starting to crumble and fall apart. Richelle saw this and looked at Caspian and told him, "You should've left me in there to die."

"Maybe I should've," he replied as he put her in the back of the car, and it was obvious by his tone that he was seriously considering it.

The freezing November night air never felt so good as it hit on her hot skin, out of the frying pan and into the fire indeed. Her hands went up to her cheeks and she felt some amount of relief and amazement that she even had skin left, she would've thought it would've been burnt away by now. When Richelle heard someone coming, she forced herself up onto her knees and looked out the window at Methos and Kronos and told them in a matter-of-fact tone, "Your informant set you up."

It was obvious by the look on Methos' face that he had already considered that possibility. They returned to the house but it was not a peaceful night from there on out. Upon return Richelle had found out that Richie had gotten out unscathed and he was the one responsible for the Immortals coming out to the house in time to find her before the whole place went up in a raging inferno.

He was alright and for that Richelle was very thankful, but her night of hell was just beginning; during the night her body had sought to cope with the smoke and dirt it had taken in by putting her through a violent bout of nausea to get it out. It was so bad she had to spend the night sleeping on the bathroom floor, sleeping being a loose term because she got up every hour in the night to throw up again; and for whatever reason, she had two attending yet reluctant nursemaids through the night. Methos and Kronos both kept an eye on her as they quickly found out how dangerous she could be when she was sick; twice during the night she became too dehydrated to throw up and one had to hold her down while the other forced something down her throat, only for her to throw it up again in two seconds.

Methos contemplated how their age was telling on them tonight as Kronos was somehow able to fall asleep in the corner of the bathroom by the door, despite all the noise. Methos ran a wash cloth under the cold faucet and smoothed it over Richelle's eyes and across her face, which by this time was streaked with half dried tears that had been wrenched out of her during the night. Every time she was sick she sounded like she was being ripped apart, and Methos was sure it felt like she was too. Spending so much time on the floor at her side, he quickly came to the conclusion that the floor was cold and very uncomfortable for spending the night so he piled a bunch of pillows under Richelle and covered her with a sheet for the brief times she was able to lie down again.

If it was possible to sleep with your eyes open, it seemed Richelle had found out a way; her eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling but in no way did she seem responsive to anything. At 3 in the morning she seemed to finally calm down, Methos sat beside her and lightly ran his hand over her head and asked her, "Are you feeling any better?"

Richelle closed her eyes in an extended blink and groaned and said, "Just shoot me, Methos."

She finally fell asleep around 5 o' clock and stayed asleep until 7 when she woke up still groaning, but the nausea had passed and now she was starving.

"How're you feeling?" Methos asked as he helped her up.

She groaned again and said, "I have a newfound respect for the firemen in this world." She looked up at him and said, "You know, Methos, I don't think those bastards knew anybody was coming last night, but I do think they found out you were going to blow them up so they pulled up out of there and torched the place so there wouldn't be anything to trace them by."

"That's what we're thinking," he told her.

"So where to from here?" she asked.

"_We'll_ worry about that," he said.

That's what you think, she thought.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Methos and Kronos were in the living room going over the rest of the notes from the informant when they heard a familiar choked sound and got their answer as to what it was when Caspian came out of the kitchen hauling Richelle over his shoulder.<p>

"Let me guess," she said, "In a previous life you were a skip tracer, right?"

"Shut up," he replied as he dropped her on a chair and told his brothers that he'd just caught her trying to escape again. Richelle only shrugged her shoulders and said, "I've never seen the backyard of this dump, is that a crime?"

"You stay there and keep your mouth shut," Caspian warned her.

"Or else what?" she replied, "You going to bite my ears off like the donkey in Pinocchio?"

Despite being so sure of herself, when Caspian took a step towards her, Richelle flung her arms up over her head to protect her ears.

"Richelle, where's your brother?" Methos asked her.

"In bed, he's still not feeling too well," she answered.

"Why don't you join him?" Kronos suggested.

"That's a good i…" Richelle turned and glared at him.

"It might be a good idea if you checked on him," Methos told her.

Richelle shrugged and in getting up, made a mad dash past Caspian and up the stairs. She went into Methos' room and saw that Richie was still lying on the bed and she saw that he'd gotten his hands on the Stripe Gremlin and was holding onto it like a teddy bear. She sneaked up on him and pounced; Richie jerked awake and the two rolled around on the bed wrestling, and then both lost their balance and fell off the bed and took the doll with them. Richelle untangled herself from her brother and picked up the plastic doll and upon hearing it rattle she said, "Nice going, Richie, you broke it!"

"No I didn't," he said, "See? It's still all in one piece."

"Well," Richelle picked the doll up and held it to her ear like a watch and listened to it rattle. "It's something inside of it." She turned it around and saw tiny screws holding all the plastic into place and she told Richie, "See if you can find a screwdriver, we'll see what's the matter with it."

"Okay," he got up and looked through the drawers and on top of the dresser and the trunk and after sorting through a bunch of the junk Methos kept around, finally found a small screwdriver and gave it to his sister, who found one screw in the center of the doll's back and started to undo it.

Richie stood watch at the door to make sure that Methos didn't come in and catch them dismantling the Gremlin; it took Richelle almost 20 minutes to get the screws out so she could open the doll up. She put the screwdriver down and started pulling the two sides apart and they both noticed when something fell out of the doll's insides, several things.

"Oh boy," Richie said.

Lying on the carpet were several small, narrow, sharp, clear crystals, and a few shorter, fatter pieces as well.

"Hmmm, he's a jewel thief too," Richelle said as she picked the pieces up, "Looks like a bunch of glass to me, or real ice."

"Why would he keep those in there?" Richie asked.

"It would explain why a grown man carries around a Gremlin doll all the time," Richelle said, "For safekeeping…hmmm."

Richie went over to her and he saw what she saw, put together the small crystals looked like they made up one big crystal, but one piece, a larger piece, was still missing.

"Must not've gotten the whole collection," Richie said.

Richelle had an idea on where that other piece had gone.

"Get the Mohawk doll," she told him.

Richie got it off the table and took the liberty of unscrewing this one himself. When he opened it up, the doll lost some of the sparkle in one eye as out dropped a larger, more perfectly shaped crystal.

"Now this looks like the real McCoy," he said as he held it up to the light.

"So, put it with these and let's see if it fits," Richelle told him.

That was when fate intervened and the bedroom door opened and Methos walked in and caught them, and he froze, wide eyed and in shock.

"We didn't do it," Richelle was the first to say, "The crystal was already broken."

"What did you do?" Methos asked, and before they could answer he added, "Put that down!"

They dropped the crystals on the floor and jumped to their feet.

"It wasn't our fault," Richelle said.

Methos grabbed her by the shirt and asked her, "Did you put them together? Did you!"

"Not all of them," she answered, "We just got the last piece out. What's this all about?"

Methos took his hands off of her and exhaled in relief.

"I don't get it," Richie said, "What's the big deal?"

Methos realized he had to explain it to them and he asked, "For all that you know about Immortals, have you ever been told about the Methuselah Stone?"

Both twins shook their heads.

"I assume you both remember the story of Noah in the Bible?" they both nodded, and Methos found himself nodding as well as he explained, "Noah lived to be over 900 years old, he was given this stone from his grandfather, Methuselah, who _also_ lived to be 900. It's been making its way around the world for thousands of years in the hands of one owner or another, always by Immortals. There's a rumor that says that when all the pieces are together, it has a power that will make a mortal person Immortal. Whoever has it lives forever."

"Those things?" Richelle asked, not believing it.

"No, when all the crystals are put together, they form into one stone, more like a diamond than a crystal, _that_ is what's supposed to grant Immortality," Methos said, "But nobody knows for sure, and the Immortals who have it in their hands are not willing to find out."

"Is it the same Immortality like you guys have?" Richie asked.

"That's another thing we don't know, assuming it would work we don't know what the end result would be," Methos said.

"But there are some mortals willing to try it," Richelle said.

"Yes."

Richelle had a murderous glare in her eyes and she nodded as she said, "That's it, isn't it? That's the thing! _That_ is what the Hunters are looking for, _that's_ why Horton's trying to bust into this house, to get the stone for himself. That's it! Isn't it?"

"Yes," Methos answered simply.


	15. Chapter 15

"Now it all makes sense," Richelle said, looking to her brother and then to Methos as she said, "Horton wants all the Immortals dead so he has no competition, then he uses the stone on himself to become Immortal so whatever the prize is _he_ will get it. Granted," she looked back to Richie as she continued, "That would mean also either he's setting his own men up to die in addition to the Watchers and the Immortals, or he's got the Hunters ready to accept him as the only Immortal in the world."

"That's about the size of it," Methos said, "Least of all from what I've been able to put together. I've never been able to buy that Horton _only_ wants the Immortals dead, there has to be an ulterior motive. And there are a lot of people who have no qualms about killing anybody who gets in their way for the Methuselah Stone."

"But do they know you have it?" Richelle asked.

"They may suspect but nobody knows it yet," Methos said, "The last anybody heard of it was it was divided up in little pieces from another Immortal, a woman, to her students, and that was about 500 years ago. And if they came here looking for it, they most likely wouldn't find it because…"

"I saw Wait Until Dark, I know how it works," Richelle said, "Hide it in the doll because who the hell's going to think to look for anything in the doll? And one like this," she held up Stripe, "Is especially not going to give itself away, not a hard plastic doll with screws in it. But that also explains why you've been keeping it with you at practically all times since we got here."

Richie was still scratching his head on something though, "If it's that important, why didn't you just keep the crystals locked away in the war room? You said yourself it's safer than Fort Knox."

"It is, and when we sleep in there I _do_, but Silas and Caspian don't _know_ about the stone, and I'm for keeping it that way."

"What do you mean they don't know?" Richelle asked.

"I mean," Methos explained, "The stone doesn't mean anything to them, as far as they know the Hunters _are_ only trying to find us out to kill us, that's all the reasoning they need. As far as they're concerned, this rock is still scattered all over the four corners of the earth."

"If it doesn't mean anything to them, why don't they know?" Richelle asked.

Methos had more trouble explaining this part. "You may have noticed that Caspian is _not_ the brightest bird in the barnyard, his easy solution to most things is to just destroy whatever's causing the problem. I could easily see him smashing the crystal to bits just to have the whole mess over with."

"So why don't you?" Richelle asked, "If nobody knows if the stone works then that means nobody's tried it and if nobody's tried it in 5,000 years, why keep it around?"

"There are some things in this world that you don't mess with," he reminded them, "And just believe me when I say that this is one of them."

They were willing to take his word for it.

"But I don't get it," Richelle said, "If the Hunters see you as just another Watcher, how did they find out you're Immortal?"

"For the moment anyway, I'm sure that only a few of them even _suspect_ that I am, everybody knows me as Adam Pierson, but somebody found out I'm also going under a second name, and that always draws suspicion. Given how complicated Watchers' lives are already but they usually manage to maintain only their real identity, it could be somebody started putting the pieces together and came to a conclusion very close to the truth."

"So what're you going to do?" Richie asked.

"I have an idea," Methos told them, "I'm not supposed to know that they're onto us, so I'm going to allow myself to be overheard when I make a phone call to a certain tapped number and tell the person on the other end that I and my 'associates', are going to a new location where we'll appear to be obvious targets. That way we're ready for the attack but our home is not compromised in the process."

"It's a plan," Richie agreed, "But will it work?"

"Only one way to find out," Methos said.

"And," Richelle said, "When you say relocate there, does that mean all of us, or are you and Kronos going on ahead and we," she pointed to herself and Richie, "Get left behind here with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Ed?"

"Don't worry, when I get all the details figured out, you'll be the first to know," he told them, but they weren't easily reassured by that statement.

Richelle looked at the crystals lying on the floor and she asked Methos, "Taken apart, can they do anything? Is just one crystal capable of doing anything?"

"I highly doubt it," he told her.

* * *

><p>That night Richie and Richelle lay alongside each other in the same bed but Richie was asleep and Richelle was not. She lay in bed looking up at the ceiling, and thinking…whoever had the Methuselah stone lived forever, a mortal could become Immortal, Immortal, eternal life, perfect health, could it be possible?<p>

Ever since she'd found out that Connor was Immortal, she'd often wondered what a life like that would be like. Given the violent nature of Immortal lives, it did pose the question of is it worth it? But then again there were several Immortals who didn't believe in the Game or the Prize and who largely found ways to avoid fighting one another. The idea of living hundreds of years, when mere mortals would only live 80 or 90, seeing the future that people could only dream of in one lifetime become reality in another. She remembered telling Connor that if it were possible for her to be Immortal as well, she would jump on it.

She seemed to recall, though she couldn't remember now if it had been an actual conversation with Connor, or if she'd only dreamt it some time ago. There were few things that Richelle was downright defiant with Connor about, but their longest running fight was on her refusal to take her pills.

"I've gotten this far without them," she said, "I could go another 18 years without them."

"Maybe," Connor replied, "And during that time maybe make a few more dozen trips to the emergency room in between."

"It's easy for you to say because _you_ don't have to do it," Richelle said, "But this is _my_ life, nobody's going to care if I live or die."

"I happen to care you moron!" Connor told her.

She hadn't expected that, and he went on.

"What do you think will happen to Richie if anything ever happens to you?" he pressed on.

"He got along without me before, he could again," she said.

"No, Richelle," he shook his head, "He knows you're alive, that if nothing else has drawn attention to the bond you two have, if you die he's going to know it."

"That's the only thing he's going to know," she said, "You have no idea what it's like to have somebody tell you that you have to take this thing every day for the rest of your life or you're going to die. I don't imagine it means anything to you because where you're concerned, mortals all die anyway, but it means a _hell_ of a lot to me because this is a difference of living 60 years or dying next week. When you _don't_ have to do it, you have no idea how lucky you are, you can just go on with your day, doing what the hell ever, never have a worry in the world, certainly none about dying because you did or didn't take a pill. People say you can live for 3 days without water, a month without food but nobody says if you're anemic, how long you can live without the vitamins, the iron, any of that, they don't tell you that, you don't _get_ to gamble with that. It's not fair, Connor, Richie and I are exactly alike but he's in perfect health and I always have to worry about dying. He's never going to know what that's like, what I have to put up with. Besides, as long as I can keep up with my brother, everything's fine, but the minute I have to start swallowing pills around the clock, he isn't going to want me around."

"You really believe that?" Connor asked.

"It's true," she said, "That's another thing you wouldn't know about, nobody wants a sibling with a health problem, they want a 'normal' brother or sister instead of the factory reject they got stuck with."

"I think you're underestimating your brother."

"And I think you're underestimating basic human nature. Survival of the fittest and all that, right? And I can fight well, but it doesn't mean anything at the end of it all. It's one thing to accept that fate and take your chances, but I've made it this far without the pills, and if I start taking them, then my body gets used to a higher level of potassium instead, and what happens if one day that supply is cut off? That's the good thing about being at the bottom already, you don't have far to fall. I'd rather hang onto my life by a thread than for a while be up and then hit bottom so fast it's like taking a swan dive into an empty pool."

* * *

><p>The memories seemed real enough but she didn't know for fact that she'd told Connor that, or if she'd only thought it, but it was true. It was a simple case of damned if you do, damned if you don't, if she didn't take the pills then her health would always be in jeopardy, but if she did, then she had to remember to take them every day for the rest of her life, some choice. If she was normal like her brother, then being Immortal wouldn't be so appealing to her, but she wasn't and it was. And this wasn't any deal with the devil either, what did she have to do? Just put the crystals together and when they became one, touch it? That was the impression she got anyway, how could it be any easier than that? And even if it wasn't true, if there was no power or magical ability in the damn rocks, then she wouldn't be any worse off than she already was.<p>

She turned on her side and looked over at her sleeping brother. Of course if the damn rocks worked, it would have to be both of them, that was only fair. True, Richie didn't have to worry about his health now, but what about in 20 or 30 years? Most people started out healthy and then became disease-ridden as they got older. But to stop life at 19, to be young and firm and healthy forever…yes where she was concerned, it would be worth it. She didn't know if Richie agreed though but from her own perspective, living forever like that would definitely be worth the risk of having to kill other people to stay alive. That's how their lives were pretty much going now anyway. Risk by association, they'd already been living with Immortals and knew how it worked, so they wouldn't have far to go if the process occurred.

Immortal twins, was it possible? Of course it was, if there was any truth to the Methuselah Stone it was possible, but had it ever happened at any time before in history? The St. Cloud brothers, did they count? Were they twins, or not? They certainly looked nothing alike but they seemed to share one brain between them. Could it have been that they too were mortals who were transformed by the stone? She didn't know, and the more she thought about it, she didn't really care. All she could think about was there had to be some way she could get to the stone, and find out if it worked. What point in it existing if it couldn't be used? She had to find some way to get the Methuselah stone, she just had to.

* * *

><p>All through the night, Richelle tossed and turned in her sleep dreaming about the Methuselah stone, dreaming of ways to get to it and find out if it worked. Her nocturnal mind trying to figure out some plan to get access to it again without Methos knowing; it was a tantalizing dream that felt like it was just out of her reach and she stretched her arms out as far and as high as she could and still wasn't able to grab it. She could see it as Methos had described it, all in one piece, a perfectly round diamond, roughly the size of a marble shooter. She felt herself chasing after it, she could feel her feet leaving the floor and she felt herself climbing stairs that weren't there and she was near the ceiling and still chasing after it. And then, like a bad video game, the diamond broke into the little pieces of crystal again and were scattered from top to bottom in the room like rows on a computer screen and she ran in all directions trying to catch them but just before she could grab them, the crystals would disappear into thin air.<p>

And on the other side of the bed, things weren't much calmer. Richie was not dreaming about the Methuselah stone. In his dream, he and his sister were being led down a dark corridor by an unseen figure, and there wasn't a single light anywhere, but somehow it was bright enough that they could see where they were going. It was a very narrow corridor and there were no doors on either side of them, the walls were just like the floor, and just as black, and ran on for just as long. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that they were being led off somewhere to be executed; he didn't know where they were, where they were going, who was taking them, or why. Finally they came to the end of the corridor and entered an equally dark room. They still didn't see anyone around, but the center of the room was well lit that they could see something that they couldn't believe. In the center of the room there was a small treasure chest shaped crystal box with a latch on it, and it rested on top of a large black and white checkered toadstool. He had a feeling of déjà vu, that they had been here before, and he knew that this box was never to be opened, but all the same there was some force drawing them towards the box to open it. Pandora's Box, he thought, open it up and the end of the world comes out of it, or something just as bad. Or would it? And then, to both their surprise, there suddenly appeared inside the clear crystal box, the Methuselah stone, no longer a dozen crystal pieces but a rounded diamond. He felt his hand reached out to undo the latch and open the box up. He could hear a taunting voice in his head, egging him on, telling him that he too could live forever, never grow old, never get sick, never die, if he just opened the box.

The other side of the bed was getting more turbulent now, Richelle had stopped dreaming about the Methuselah stone, and taken another fall down the rabbit hole at warp speed. She was standing alone in a dark room, there was a light shining directly down on her and covering only the piece of ground she was standing on. Then the light spread out on the whole floor and she saw it was black and white checker pattern, like a chessboard, and she fit perfectly on one of the black squares.

She heard a sound from behind but didn't have time to turn around and see it before she felt something large and heavy push against her and almost knock her down. She turned around and saw it was a large red chess pawn that was as big as she was. Instead of the usual pawn shape though it was built as a featureless body with scrawny legs pressed together and on a disked bottom, the arms were also scrawny and bent, the hands resting against the sides of the body, and the head was just a perfectly round red orb, no face, and just as featureless as the rest of the body. Richelle barely had time to turn around before another red pawn came out of the opposite side and hit her and she became sandwiched between the two of them. And as she managed to pull loose, two white pawns came out of the two other directions and pressed against her too, locking her in the center of all of them. They were heavy and she couldn't move them or push past them, but she managed to squeeze out in the space between their narrow legs. She backed up and into something else and she turned around and her eyes widened as she saw a large chess knight standing behind her, it held a long halberd in its hand and glared down at her.

Richelle closed her eyes and opened them again to see it, there was something in the knight's face that reminded her of Silas. Richelle backed away from it and came back to the pawns, and now when she saw them they were still two white and two red, but now they were men dressed in armor from a point in history she would guess time had forgotten by now. The longer she looked at them she could've sworn the faces now resembled the other Immortals, Methos, Kronos and Caspian; and not only had the features of the pawns changed, but their positions as well. Each stood alone and positioned in an outstretched pose as if each had been taken and frozen in the middle of a battle. She turned and ran, not knowing where she was going but looking for a way off the chessboard.

She never remembered getting off the chessboard but the next thing she knew she was running down a hallway where the blackened walls opened up into a hundred doors on each side. She didn't see what she had to lose so she went in one door to see where it led to, and she found herself coming out a door on the other side. She went through another door and tried it again, and the end result was the same; so she ran down the corridor to see if an end lay anywhere in sight. She was nowhere near the end when suddenly all the doors slammed shut on both sides of her; she grabbed the doorknob of the one nearest her and found it wouldn't open, she tried several others and they were locked as well.

"What the hell's going on around here?" she demanded to know as she turned around and looked for someone, something, anything, that might explain it. But there was nothing and nobody; with nothing to lose she resumed running down the blackened hallway, and then the floor just ended, and she found herself falling.

And that was when Richelle shot up in bed and realized she was awake now and it had only been a dream, a nightmare. The relief washed over her and she fell back against the pillows. On the other side of the bed, Richie was still asleep, and she was glad for that because she was in no mood to explain what had just happened. She groaned as she turned over onto her side; she didn't know what the hell kind of sign this was supposed to be but she was going to take it at face value and for the time being anyway, leave the damned stone alone. Despite the anxiety that had filled her and that still remained despite knowing she was now awake, Richelle was still very tired and found it unbelievably easy to fall back asleep a short while later.

* * *

><p>Richelle felt somebody shaking her and heard a voice and realized it was Methos. She opened her eyes and didn't see anything, it was still dark.<p>

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Shh," she heard as a small light came on. The room was still dim but now she could see the scarecrow standing at the foot of the bed. She saw he was holding something and she reached over and jabbed Richie with her elbow and told him to wake up. Richie jumped up in the bed and looked around asking what was the matter; Richelle pointed and he saw what she did, Methos had brought in two small plates with pieces of cake on them. The sight of it made Richelle realize how hungry she was but she held herself back long enough to ask, "What's this for?"

"Who cares?" Richie asked, "Let's eat."

"That sounds about right," she said as they moved to the foot of the bed to take it. In the dim light she was able to see that it was a white cake with chocolate frosting and she commented to her brother, "Well it's not green, so I'm going to trust it's safe to eat. What time is it?"

"About 3 o' clock," Methos said as he folded his arms against his chest, "And all's well. So far as we can tell anyway."

"Where're the others?" Richie asked.

"Kronos is asleep, Silas is up on the roof, and Caspian is off connecting a few wires together so that with the punch of a few buttons, the next place the Hunters meet at is going to go up in flames like Pearl Harbor."

"Yeah, but how do you know they're not going to beat you to it again?" Richie asked.

"Because we're starting at the end and working backwards this time," Methos said.

"Sounds like something from beyond the looking glass," Richelle commented.

"Something like that," Methos told her, "This is the end of the line, I doubt the Hunters would anticipate we'd attack there next. Oh they were very smart putting together a whole string of hideouts and meeting places, if something happens to one, just go to another instead, nobody knows who or what they are anyway so who's going to notice? Except we did."

"Yeah but is it all going to actually end somewhere?" Richelle asked, "Or are they just going to find new places to hide out?"

"Oh sure they are," Methos said, "But they've never had as much trouble so close together as they are now. They've been getting away with murder literally for many years, and now we're going to put an end to it, once and for all."

"And then we can go home?" Richelle asked. That was the question on both their minds but they tried not to bring up. Richie knew that to some extent they could trust these people but he didn't know how much exactly; for some reason he still had his doubts that when this was all over they were going to let them get out alive and go back home.

"Somewhere around there," Methos told them, "We figure it should be over before too much longer at this rate."

"One question," Richelle said, "When we _do_ go home, what do we tell them? When MacLeod asks what happened and why this all happened, what do we tell him?"

"Anything you want," Methos answered, "Tell him anything you have a mind to, that is…"

"Anything but the truth," the twins said at the same time he did.

"That's right," Methos said with a small smirk, "You two are very smart."

"Try telling that to MacLeod," Richelle said, "He won't listen to us."

Richelle gave him back the empty plate and she lifted herself off the bed and got up and went over to a table on the other side of the room. Methos and Richie both looked and saw that she'd settled herself down by a chess set that was set up and ready to use. She looked up at Methos and said in a very dry and yet cynical tone, "I have an appointment with Death, we're going to play chess later."

"You play then," Methos said as he got up from the footboard.

"Sometimes," Richelle answered as she picked up one of the knights and felt it was made of something hard and cold, "Back at the shop, MacLeod's got this one real fancy chess set, made out of glass and marble, but he never lets me use it because he thinks I'm going to break it. Because I break _everything_, just like I broke the coffee table, and just like I apparently broke one of his precious display swords." Her voice was venom now as she added, "I should break his head."

Methos knelt down beside her and said, "Alright, Antonius, let's get you back in bed for the night."

Richelle put the knight back on the board and got to her feet and went back to the bed and climbed in beside her brother; Methos pulled the covers up on them, collected the two plates and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Well that was weird," Richelle said as she lay on her side facing away from Richie.

"Good though," Richie replied.

"Yeah it…wait a minute," Richelle sat up in the bed and looked over at her brother.

"What is it?" he asked.

Richelle looked at her brother like she was trying to figure out what words to use. Then she looked to the door and then back to her brother and asked him, "As far as I know, white cake with chocolate frosting is not a very popular flavor, brother, so how did Methos know that it was the same kind we had at our birthday last September?"

She could see the confusion in her brother's eyes as it slowly hit him and he asked her, "You think he did know?"

"It makes sense," she said, "What're the odds, two months ago we had it specifically because it's what we both like, and that's the exact same kind that he just gave us? How did he know that?"

Both twins looked to the door as if they might find the answer left behind after he had gone from the room.

* * *

><p>Another sleepless night on the couch; Connor could see the lights from the street shining in through the windows, his attempt to find a comfortable position that he might sleep in found him with one arm behind his head and one leg up on the back of the couch, and he still wasn't any closer to falling asleep than he was before.<p>

One part of him felt pity for his cousin, he'd come here and found Duncan a complete mess, he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and it killed him that he had no way of finding out who was responsible for this or even why. And then, the other side reminded him of how badly his cousin had been behaving lately and weighed the options that maybe this little experience would teach him a lesson. Somehow he doubted it though, Duncan always was a slow learner.

He wasn't sure exactly _what_ Methos and his friends had planned for the Hunters but he hoped whatever it was they did it soon so he could bring those two back; if nothing else, he wanted to have them home by the time Tessa returned from Paris. When he thought of Tessa, he had to laugh, it took him back. For as much as he lectured Duncan about the twins being adults and capable of making their own decisions, he'd learned a couple of things after taking Richelle in and after getting reacquainted with Richie; being grown up didn't necessarily make a person grown, and just because a person was grown didn't mean that they didn't still act like children at times.

In his time the distinction was easier to make, almost 500 years ago it was much simpler to tell when a child grew up, when a boy became a man, these days it was a bit more complicated. He'd never intended to become a father figure to Richelle and he was sure she didn't think of him as one, but there were times that he did. Despite being 18 and able to take care of herself, it was obvious there were still times when she needed help. He smiled as he recalled one morning she had been trying to sleep, but he got her up and told her to get cleaned up because later that day they were going to catch a plane and go visit Richie in Seacouver. Richelle remained half asleep all the way into the bathroom, but Connor wasn't worried about it, until he heard her fall in the tub, immediately followed by a loud scream.

"What happened?" he asked, deciding to find out what it was before he panicked.

He heard Richelle emerge above the water and she yelled down the hall, "Who the hell left a straight razor open in the damn tub?"

That didn't sound good. "Did you cut yourself?"

He went into the bathroom and found she'd fallen into the tub before she'd gotten undressed and she was holding her foot. The tub was wine colored so it was impossible to see any blood in that water. Luckily the blade had missed the veins in her foot, but the water had mixed with the blood and made it look worse than it was, he knew it hurt her but he tried to sound reassuring as he told her, "It's only a small cut." Obviously it didn't feel so small to her and he knew it, he helped her out of the tub and got a better look at it.

It was still bleeding so he grabbed a bottle of peroxide from the medicine cabinet and poured it over the wound. Richelle seldom let on to how much pain she was in but as her foot foamed up she choked on half a dozen strangled sounds and slightly bobbed up and down until the pain stopped. Most of the bleeding had stopped by that time but he still wrapped it up so she couldn't bump it and get it started again. He had her stand up to see how well she could stand on that foot and concluded she would be fine but it was a good thing she wasn't running a marathon either.

"But let me guess, don't get the bandage wet, right?" she asked.

Connor laughed at his own oversight and asked if she needed any help, but she just shook her head and insisted she could do it herself. He'd learned early on in their cohabitation that Richelle was _not_ an exhibitionist but she also didn't bother to cover herself if she was walked in on in an awkward moment. He remembered she'd made a comment about the lowlife street population was like a bunch of dogs and could smell fear, and embarrassment, and everything else that made life uncomfortable when vulnerability interrupted; and from that she'd learned to stand her ground just the same if she was dressed or caught in her most natural state. And he'd also found out that she was not as conservative as most would be in her position; several times they'd carried on a conversation while she was in the shower and he stood at the doorway. Neither had come from a normal life and maybe that was the reason that the close quarters didn't bother them, but Connor also knew that she would not be so trusting with anybody else, except maybe her brother.

"We shared a womb for 9 months," she told him once, "Trust me, we came into this world as intimate as they can get."

"Yes, but you both looked a bit different back then," he reminded her.

"Didn't you tell me though," she replied, "That in Europe, siblings of all ages undress in front of each other all the time, and nobody bats an eye at that?"

"Depending on the family, yes," Connor told her, "But you know as well as I do how well foreign customs _don't_ adapt in this country."

"Who's talking about the damn country?" she asked, "I'm talking about me and my brother. Trust me, Connor, ain't anything going through Richie's mind when he sees me, and that's completely mutual."

"Thank God for that," Connor had muttered, "We do well in this family not to have too many skeletons in our closet, and I'm all for keeping it that we've no flowers in our attics either."

* * *

><p>Of course, Connor knew that it hadn't come to that yet, Richelle always had the common decency to go into the bathroom before she started tossing her clothes out. Of course by now, given their new living conditions, he was starting to wonder. It reminded him though of just how much Duncan had protested that first night, about Richie and Richelle staying the night in his room and his bed together. And he'd still had the same complaints when they'd gone to New York and saw that the twins shared a room and a bed there as well. It was true Connor's home was bigger so he could definitely set up a second room for Richie, but he didn't and he wouldn't, those two never went off separately at night, they always went everywhere together, and that included to bed. They were nothing short of inseparable when they were together, and by now he doubted that one could survive if anything would happen to the other.<p>

Connor picked up the top half of his body and looked over to the calendar on the wall, even in the dark he could see enough; this was the third week of November, so much for the idea of having the whole 'family' here for their first Thanksgiving together. But he hoped they'd get the twins back in time for their first Christmas together; then another thought occurred to Connor, Duncan's birthday was also coming up, and if Richie and his sister weren't home by then…he could just imagine how horrible it would be for his cousin. Maybe it was just the sadistic streak in him but instead of being concerned for his cousin's welfare, Connor just smiled at the thought.

Another thought occurred to Connor and he remembered another time, another exhibit in how grown people could act like children. He'd come in late one night and found Richelle on the living room floor, asleep, the phone on the floor beside her. He knew that she and Richie didn't call each other much in between visits, and whenever they did it could usually take a couple of hours. It was going on one in the morning, Connor put the phone away and woke Richelle up and told her to go upstairs and get ready for bed. She was slow in coming around so he helped her up the stairs and into her room; he watched as she got undressed and fumbled her way into a large nightshirt, all while her eyes remained half closed. He helped her into bed and as he was getting her tucked in, she started to murmur something and she looked up at him through half closed eyes and asked him, "Connor, do you like Tessa?"

"Of course I like her," he answered, "She's a nice woman."

"Would you marry her?" she asked, her words starting to slur.

He hadn't seen that one coming. "Why would I marry Tessa?" he asked.

"Because if you married her then you two would be together and that means the four of us would always be together, we wouldn't have to be split up anymore, Richie and I would never have to leave one another."

He knew that it was only through sheer exhaustion that he was even hearing this little confession, and the next morning Richelle seemed to have no recollection of saying anything to him. It was a child's logic but it did make sense, and it was when she'd said that, that something else occurred to Connor. After they'd both landed in the hospital during their first stay in Seacouver, Richelle had given the two MacLeods an ultimatum, if they didn't figure out some way to compromise, she and her brother would disappear and they'd never see them again. And he knew she was telling the truth, and she had every opportunity to do that; she had the money, they both had the means, they could survive on their own, but they chose not to. They were giving both MacLeods a chance to stay in their lives, because they _wanted_ them around, and Connor felt honored by the privilege; he was sure in any other situation, as soon as those two were able to check out of the hospital they would've been gone without a trace and never been seen by the likes of he and his cousin again.

Richelle was stubborn and she stood her ground and liked to make her own rules for everything, but he also knew that she was desperate to keep what family she had together; she loved her brother, but she'd also grown accustomed to being within the MacLeod family, at least on Connor's side anyway, and she knew that Richie was attached to both Duncan and Tessa, but at a choice between the two she would pick Tessa, apparently she had been trying to push the two together almost from the start to make it work. Of course it wouldn't, and Connor knew that and he'd tried explaining it to Richelle as well, but she was determined to do anything to make sure she and her brother weren't split up again. And knowing what he did, he knew he couldn't blame her. His life had been a very lonely one for the most part, he recalled only too well being shunned and chased away by the members of his own clan, the men that he had called friends. He wouldn't wish that fate on anybody and he knew that Richie was the only family Richelle had, of course she would do anything to keep them together. Could any of them be blamed for doing the same thing if they were in her position?

* * *

><p>Richie wished he could figure out how they kept getting into messes like this. He looked up from his position chained to the living room floor and tried to think what he ever did to anybody that he should keep winding up like this. The day was gloomy and outside it looked like it might rain; inside they were alone in the dark, Richelle was over on the other side of the room and she was turned on her side with her back to him, and she wasn't speaking. He thought maybe she'd fallen asleep, he hoped that's all it was. Methos and Kronos had left early that morning, leaving them alone with Silas and Caspian, and Richie knew from the start that that had been a mistake; after a while, Silas and Caspian decided to leave too, but first they had decided to make sure the twins couldn't try anything funny and get away. So they'd chained Richie's wrist to a pipe against the wall on one side of the room, and Richelle had been chained up on the other side behind the couch.<p>

They'd tried at first to get loose but quickly realized the futility of their situation and knew that they'd have to wait for _somebody_ to come back, and both anxiously hoped that they _did_. Richie had tried a few times to fall asleep but he was restless and wanted nothing more than to rip the bolt out of the wall and beat both those bastards with the chain, but he knew that would only get him killed for sure. So he just lay on the floor, still, quiet, and waited.

He didn't know what time it was, he couldn't see the clock, but he guessed it was a couple hours later when he heard his sister groaning, and he called over to her, "You okay, sis?"

He heard her grumble something in response, it sounded like she was half asleep. In a fit of boredom, he tried again, still unsuccessfully, to get out of the shackle on his arm, but it was no good; his wrist was too fat to slip through and the chain was too strong to come off the pipe, no matter how hard he pulled on it.

Richie didn't remember falling asleep but he jerked awake when he heard the front door open, he swore if it was those two idiots Silas and Caspian, he was going to find _some_ way to hurt them. But it was to his relief to see it was not Silas and Caspian, but Methos and Kronos who walked in.

"Well it's about damn time," he said.

"What the hell's going on now?" Methos asked.

"Those two geniuses you call brothers tied us up again, and then they left," Richie said. He got to his knees and now he was able to make out the time on the clock and told them, "About five hours ago."

"Oh great," Methos dryly remarked as he went over to the table in the corner of the room and picked up the keys.

"And where did _they_ go?" Kronos asked as he came in behind his brother.

"Hell if I know," Richie said as Methos got the shackle to drop off his wrist, "They just left."

"Where's your sister?" Methos asked.

"Behind the couch," Richie pointed, "She hasn't moved."

Methos didn't like the sound of that. He went behind the couch to see what was the matter and it was at that moment that Kronos hit the lights and the whole room lit up. Methos found Richelle curled on her side with her knees drawn up, and she was awake but she still wasn't moving. She had a grimace on her face that looked like she was in pain. Methos pulled her into an upward position so he could get her arm out from under her and unlock her shackle too, and it was then that he realized what the problem was.

"Oh boy," he couldn't stop himself from saying.

"What is it?" Kronos asked.

Methos didn't answer, he just looked down at Richelle, and at the bloodstain on the floor that she'd been sitting in for several hours.

* * *

><p>Richelle opened her eyes and picked her head up off the edge of the tub and sat up in the water that was starting to cool down. She figured she'd been soaking in the bath for about half an hour, and sooner or later she was going to have to show her face again. She'd known that this day had been coming and that had been another reason why the other night she and Richie ran a practice escape from the house and made their destination an all night store; in addition to the food they'd swiped, when Richie hadn't been looking she'd also swiped a couple packages of mini pads and stuffed them into the coat pockets as well, and stashed them away in the bedroom closet where nobody would see them. She supposed she owed that damn scarecrow some gratitude, he'd managed to get her rushed out of the room before Richie could see much of the damage; she'd insisted the whole way that he was too young to see it anyway.<p>

She pulled the drain lever and stepped out of the tub, slipped into one of the large towels off the rack and walked out of the bathroom and saw Methos standing almost right outside the door.

"What the hell is this, this roach motel?" she asked, "Geez, can't get away from the damn insects for a minute."

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she bitterly replied, "What's the matter with you, didn't you ever take biology?"

Methos closed his eyes and jerked his head from side to the side as he managed to resist laughing, and said, "That's _not_ what I meant." He took a minute and tried to think how to explain it to her. "Look, I know none of this has been easy."

Now it was Richelle's turn to laugh, and she did, directly into his face and she followed it up with, "Who do you think you're talking to? You think this stuff never happened before?"

"With Connor?"

She nodded slightly. She still wasn't willing to reveal anymore information about him than was absolutely necessary. "Believe me, ain't anything going on now that hasn't already happened with him, and after that, this is a breeze."

Richelle turned and headed to the bedroom so she could dress, but she stopped so he went ahead of her.

"You know," she said, "Connor likes to pride himself on being so old that, can't really nothing shock him anymore."

"He's young," Methos told her, "He'll learn better in time."

"Yeah well, that being said, getting a surprised reaction out of him is like making those palace guards crack…and with _that_ said, I do pride myself on once being able to make him flinch."

"Oh yeah, how?" Methos asked as he headed into the room.

"The last time this happened and I asked him when I can get a diaphragm," she said.

Methos stopped in his tracks with a slight jump and turned around to glare at her through one eye.

"That's the exact response I got out of _him_ when I said that," she said with a smirk as she walked on ahead of him and slammed the door in his face.

* * *

><p>Once Richelle got dressed, she joined her brother in the kitchen and they were engrossed in a private discussion amongst themselves when Methos and Kronos came in and broke it up, demanding to know what they were mumbling about.<p>

"Nothing," they both insisted.

"Gee, why don't I believe that?" Methos sarcastically asked, "Try again."

"Alright," Richelle said, looking at Kronos as she added, "We were just having a little…hypothetical discussion."

"On what?"

"What's better, murder or suicide?" she said, and watched the look on Kronos' face as she added, "Now I'd say murder."

"I can feel the rabbit hole sucking us towards the edge," Methos commented, but he was ignored as Richelle continued, "Murder's only permanent to the _other_ guy, as for suicide, that one's really final."

"You can say that again," Methos added under his breath.

"And if you think about it," Richelle said, "Wouldn't it be amusing to go to the damned church, and confess the murder to a priest, and he'd have to forgive you, wouldn't he?"

"If you believe in that," Methos said.

"And it just so happens I don't," Richelle added, "But the priests do, and that's what would make it all the more fun, watching them squirm as you detail this brutal murder, and then they're supposed to forgive you."

The two brothers looked at each other before facing the twins again and Methos said, "Let me guess, you also enjoy scaring the hell out of the nuns when the opportunity arises?"

"When it does," she agreed, "Oh yes, I'm well aware about when the Kurgan paid a visit to New York City, seems _anybody_ who was living there at the time would remember that. I was told all about that little incident at the church, though you have to admit the psycho did have a point, have you _ever_ seen a nun with a sense of humor?"

Richie could tell that their conversation was about to take an ugly turn and he took that as his cue to leave the room, and instead he was going to watch and wait for the other two to come home; he had a feeling that was going to be an ugly event and he wanted a front row seat to it. Methos seemed to pick up on the boy's exit as a signal of sorts and said, "Now that he's out of the room, why don't you tell us what you were _really_ talking about?"

"Well," Richelle said, shifting gears, "I've just been thinking about this whole mess with Horton and the Hunters and all of that, trying to make some sense out of the whole thing."

"Good luck with that," Methos replied, "We haven't been able to make any sense out of it yet and we've been at it for thousands of years."

"Well I've just been trying to think," she said as she got up from the table, "The way you explain it, this guy Horton, he's the brains but he kind of stays to the back, lets everyone else do the killing for him, sounds kind of like Brother Christopher to me."

"Who?" Methos asked.

Kronos shook his head and told Methos, "I know who she means, don't ask."

"Brother Christopher was the anti-Christ in a couple of old movies," Richelle said as she sat down across from them at the table, "They scared the hell out of everybody with those when I was a kid. But the odd thing of it was, they never really showed him, he was never on the front lines for anything, he was more of a Big Brother idea, everywhere and nowhere, sees all, knows all, no escape, obey him or die…but it was his minions and the men who served him who were the real threat because they were the ones killing anybody who got in his way, never the anti-Christ himself. And you said that this guy Horton has been hiding behind his followers lately, letting them do all of his dirty work, so nobody's really seeing him in all of this."

"Right, but I'm not seeing the connection," Methos told her.

"Well nobody sees Horton, nobody's seeing him actually involved in the murders, the conspiracies, it's always somebody else, somebody working for him who's the butcher and the fall guy. How the hell did Horton get so many people to back him on this idea of an Immortal genocide? And how the hell did _he_ get picked as the leader? What's his plan? Now we've already determined his ultimate goal is to get his hands on the Methuselah stone and make himself Immortal. But his men are trained to kill Immortals, so either he's going to kill all of them off when he becomes Immortal, or he's got them ready to bow down at his feet as the _only_ Immortal in the whole world. But how do you do that? Wouldn't somebody else have the same idea and want to kill Horton to get the stone for themselves? I don't know what the answer is, I'm not even sure there _is_ a connection, I just said it reminded me of him. But is it any weirder than any ideas you two have been able to come up with?"

"I suppose not," Methos said, "But we're going to have to come up with something more definite if we're _ever_ going to get to the bottom of it."

Richelle got up from the table just as Richie came back into the room. They stayed over by the door as Kronos and Methos remained at the table and talked amongst themselves.

"I know we've been over this before, and gotten nowhere," Methos said, "But we've got to try and figure out _what_ Horton's ultimate plan is."

"Alright, so let's consider the facts," Kronos told him, "Within an organization of bastards who make it their mission in life to record every single detail of our own lives, is a secondary organization largely made up of the same people who instead want to see us with our heads missing. You have one bastard in particular who seems to be the one pulling the strings on this, and in the midst of it there's an ancient mythical crystal that nobody knows what it can do but there are plenty of people willing to kill for the privilege of finding out for themselves. Put all that together so far, and what have you got?"

Their discussion was interrupted as they heard Richelle say, "I got a nosebleed, do you happen to have a Kleenex?"

Methos passed a box to her and the two brothers continued their discussion, but were constantly interrupted by Richelle blowing her nose, and when they turned to look at her they were both momentarily shocked when they saw both her hands were covered in blood and so were the half a dozen Kleenex she'd gone through. Just as Methos murmured something under his breath about never a dull moment, they heard the front door open and they went out to see what the latest news was from Caspian and Silas. Richie and his sister followed behind them to also hear what the news was, and what news it was; Horton's daughter had gotten on a plane that morning for Chicago, so Horton was now alone, and in just a short while, a bomb was going to go off in his home and blow him straight to hell.

As the twins left the kitchen they saw that Silas and Caspian were sitting at the long dining room table that had already been set for dinner. Richelle went up behind Methos and when he turned around they knocked into each other.

"What is it now?" he asked.

Richelle pointed towards Caspian and asked, "How does he know Horton's going to even be there when the bomb goes off?"

"Never mind about that," he told her, and seeing her red hands again he told her to get cleaned up now, she was disgusting.

"Oh, so sorry!" she sarcastically replied as in the next second she shoved both her hands down into the water glasses at Silas and Caspian's places at the table.

"HEY!" they both responded and Caspian was the first one up from the table to strike her. He'd grabbed her by the shirt and actually lifted her up so her feet hardly touched the ground, but before he could do anything, he caught the warning look from Kronos and reluctantly put her back down. The look on Richelle's face said it plainly enough that by now she knew the rules of this game and how to win. She didn't know _why_ Kronos didn't allow the others to beat the crap out of her and her brother, but she took advantage of it.


	16. Chapter 16

That night Methos looked in on Richie and his sister and saw they were both peacefully asleep, for which he was thankful, but it didn't make what he had to do any easier. He closed the door behind him and headed down the hall to Kronos' bedroom and went in. Kronos may have been asleep but he was awake now and starting to sit up in the bed.

"What is it _this_ time, Methos?" he asked.

"I need to tell you something," Methos answered as he crawled onto the foot of the bed and looked at his brother in the dark.

"What is it now?" Kronos wanted to know.

Methos considered what he was about to say to his brother, and finally just told him, "I've been thinking about this for a while…and I'm going to tell Connor."

He didn't have to explain what it was he was going to tell Connor, Kronos knew, and when he heard that, he shot up in the bed. "Are you insane?"

"Kronos, it has to be done."

"You're out of your mind, we've gotten 5,000 years without anybody else knowing about this and if you tell him now the next thing you know the whole world is going to know it, just like the whole world knows about us even though nobody should."

"Kronos, I have to, I owe it to Connor," Methos said.

That apparently was the wrong thing to say; something crossed over in Kronos' eyes as he looked at his brother and he practically growled as he replied, "You don't owe him anything. You call him your friend, but what does that mean? How many times in 5,000 years have you been betrayed by your 'friends'?"

"Not this time," Methos insisted, "Connor's different."

"I've heard that one before too," Kronos said, "And who always has to pick up the pieces when you get your wings burned? Me!" He apparently swallowed what he was about to say next and had calmed down slightly when he spoke again. "Methos, you're 5,000 years old, you know _how_ to survive, you know not to trust anybody, that's _how_ you stay alive…and for the most part you do fine but you're always doing this. You always let your guard down and you always wind up paying the price for it."

"Kronos," Methos tried to reason with him, "Don't you think that by now I've learned _anything_ in 5,000 years?"

"It's not a matter of that, some things never change and you've never had any luck in picking any friends that as it turned out could be trusted."

"Boy your confidence in me is so _overwhelming_," Methos sarcastically replied, "It's not the others you have a problem with, it's you who doesn't trust me."

"I trust you but I've also seen what happens when you trust other people," Kronos said, "And you know as well as I do this isn't something we can afford _anybody_ else finding out."

"I know, Kronos, but the fact remains that I do trust Connor, and he has a right to know…he's got more of a stake with the girl than either of us do, and the boy as well."

"And suppose after you tell him, he goes blurting this to his idiotic cousin?"

"He won't do that, he's not even going to tell MacLeod where the kids are," Methos reminded him.

He could tell Kronos still wasn't sure, so he added, "Would you feel better about it if you could be here when I told him?"

He made a small grunt that could be interpreted either way and he said, "Well, maybe that way I can make sure you don't say the wrong thing. When do you plan to tell him?"

"Before we leave, I think tomorrow night," Methos said.

"Fine, I like an advanced warning when that thing comes to see us," Kronos told him as he went back to bed.

* * *

><p>It rained the next day and even with all the lights on the house still looked exceptionally dreary today. Ever since the twins had woken up, Richelle had been hammering Richie to remember the song he'd been humming the night before.<p>

"I keep telling you, I don't know what you're talking about," Richie said.

"Come on, Richie!" she was getting frustrated by this point in trying to remember, " 'No Mr. Gravedigger, don't feel ashamed as you dig little holes for the dead and the maimed, please Mr. Gravedigger', something, something…I'm about ready to give up."

"Why don't you?" Richie asked.

"Because Methos says that it might have something to do with the Hunters and if it does and we can figure it out maybe we can go home sooner," she told him.

"Confucius said," Methos said as he and Kronos entered the living room, "I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand."

"Ah to hell with Confucius," Richelle replied, "That old bag of rice didn't know half of anything, especially where women were concerned, _and_ I think he was a homosexual."

"I'll have you know that I was friends with Confucius," Methos told her somewhat defensively.

"And?" she asked.

Richie looked at Methos who took a minute to answer and when he did he said, "And, I think you're right."

"I knew that, I told you 2000 years ago that he was a homosexual but did you listen to me?" Kronos asked, "Does _anybody_ listen to me? Ohhhhh no, I'm only 4000 years old so what the hell would I know!"

"Sheesh, what's the matter with him?" Richie asked his sister.

Richelle leaned over towards him and murmured in response, "Maybe ol' Confucius set his sights on him once upon a time."

Richie did a double take at that idea. While Methos and Kronos argued, Richie and his sister quietly left the room before anybody could notice they were gone, and they headed back up the stairs.

"I can adapt to new living conditions as well as the next guy, but I'm getting tired of this whole setup too, Richie," Richelle told him, "Anything that can get us home quicker, I'm all for it."

"Right, but what's the song got to do with any of it?" he asked.

"I think it goes back to the graveyard, but if we could figure out what the rest of it is, then we could get somewhere with it."

"Maybe," Richie pointed towards the window, "But even if we did, ain't either of us getting out there today."

"I suppose not," Richelle said.

Richie could tell by the tone in her voice that her mind was on something else. He turned around and saw that she was looking out to see if anyone was in the hall, and when she was satisfied nobody was, she went down the hall to Kronos' room.

"What're we doing back here?" he asked.

"Just looking," she replied as she turned on the lights.

The modern electricity did little to take away from the ancient civilization feel to the room's décor; the braziers on the walls, the metal chairs with spikes in them, and the bed that looked like the mattress was made out of metal as well as the wrought iron headboard and footboard.

"It sure don't look like anybody lives here," Richelle told her brother, "Of course I'm not sure I'd call what Stripe does in here living."

Richelle gave the room a second glance over and she realized something, the furniture was closely pushed up against three of the walls in the room, and the fourth wall was empty save for the metal candle holders bolted into the wall. The gears started turning in her head and she went over to that wall and grabbed one of the braziers to see if it moved, and she found that it was relatively loose and did twist, but before she could twist it enough to see what happened, they were interrupted. Caspian had caught them in the room and jerked Richelle away from the wall so hard her whole body spun around like a top, and in the process she managed to send her elbow into his jaw and knock him back as well.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, "Grabbing a person like that!" She grabbed at the waistband of her jeans and readjusted it and grumbled something about, "Now I gotta straighten out my Little Mermaid underwear," and shook one leg for good measure.

"What the hell were _you_ doing?" he replied.

"It's a funny little habit I have," Richelle said, "When I go stir crazy I have a tendency to touch everything and see if anything _pops_ out at me."

Caspian dragged Richelle out of the bedroom and Richie followed close behind, once they were outside he let go of her and headed for the stairs. Richelle pulled Richie towards her and said, "Hey Rich, you wanna have some fun?"

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked.

She pointed towards Caspian and they seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"Let's get him," she said.

They charged him and jumped on him and their combined weight threw him off balance and all three of them fell down the stairs, one on top of the other on top of the other. Methos and Kronos heard the noise and opened the door leading to the front hallway just in time for the three of them to come rolling in. Richie fell off halfway in the door but Richelle stuck to Caspian like a tick until they both came to a sudden stop and she fell on the floor beside him. She sat up and pointed at him as he pulled himself up into a somewhat upright position.

"Hey Dunderbeck," she said, "What's the idea of shoving me down them stairs?"

Caspian did a double take, "I shoved _you_?"

"Yes!" she insisted.

If they'd been drinking he would've demanded his bottle back. However that thought was interrupted as Methos came up to them and he said, "_Really_ Caspian, we're in the middle of an all-out battle with some of the most murderous bastards of the 20th century, and _you're_ playing with the children!"

Caspian sprang to his feet and just about exploded at that remark, his exact words were jumbled and hard to decipher but they were able to make out the last part as he practically choked on the words, "Playing with the children!"

* * *

><p>That night, Richie and Richelle were blissfully unaware of the fact that their dinner had been laced with crushed up sleeping pills once more. Connor was coming and Methos believed in taking no chances. He'd managed to make a call to the antique shop and Connor answered, and he knew that Connor's story to Duncan was that one of his friends who was checking a few possible leads called him with a possible break in the case. But, he explained to Duncan, it was important that he stay behind incase the Immortals responsible for the kidnapping might call again. That should keep him in his place better than any other excuse the elder MacLeod could come up with, and it was good enough where Methos was concerned.<p>

Silas and Caspian were gone for the night, setting a few more traps for the Hunters where they'd least expect them, and that left Methos and Kronos waiting downstairs. Methos paced around the living room continuously as they awaited the arrival of Connor MacLeod once more.

"Keep it up, we'll have a hole in the floor," Kronos told him, "I still say you're making a mistake doing this."

"Well it's too late to go back now," Methos replied.

When Methos turned around again Kronos was able to get a better look at how hard his brother was breathing. In a short amount of time, he was going to unveil one of the world's secrets that was almost as old as time, to an Immortal who wasn't even 500 years old and who Methos had barely known for 300. Any way he looked at it, Kronos was sure this was not going to end well, and he still thought Methos should quit on it while he was ahead and before he ruined everything.

Then the moment of truth arrived, they felt the quickening approaching the house and they went to the door to make sure that it was the right person. It was, unfortunately, Kronos thought. Connor came up to the porch and said, "Well, I'm here."

"Yeah," Methos said after a slight pause, "Thanks for coming."

"So what's going on that I had to come over for?" he asked, "Are Richie and Richelle alright?"

"They're fine, that's not it," Methos said as they went into the house.

"What then?"

"Connor," Methos tried to think of how to explain this, "You're one of the few friends I have left, and as long as I've known you I'd like to think that I could trust you with just about anything."

"And?" Connor asked.

"Well…the other night when you were here, what I told you about we took the kids because of your cousin, and also because of the Hunters…that was partially the truth but it's not the whole story, there's another reason we did it."

"I'm listening," Connor said.

"Yeah well, I think you'd be more convinced if I showed you, follow me."

The three Immortals climbed the stairs up to the second floor and Methos led the way into Kronos' bedroom.

"What's in here?" Connor asked.

"Not here," Methos shook his head and grabbed the same brazier on the wall that Richelle had touched earlier that day, he turned it, and the wall opened into a secret doorway. "In here."

Connor ducked his head as he stepped through the wall and with Methos ahead of him and Kronos behind him, was led into another room past a short hallway. Methos hit the lights but the room was not brightly lit because the lights gave off a reddish hue. The room was relatively clean but it was cluttered and looked like there hadn't been anybody in it for several years. There were dozens of candles scattered all over the room, Connor looked at the walls and wasn't sure what to think; the walls were covered with scrawls and drawings that looked like somebody did them during a bout of insomnia, nothing that he saw made any sense. The walls were rounded in shape and all around the room Connor saw weird drawings of people circling them, people he didn't recognize and couldn't identity from any point in time; and above them were numbers and figures that looked like longitudes and latitudes, and scrawls that almost looked like hieroglyphics, of the sun and the moon and the stars, of the planets.

In the middle of the room was a round wooden table that was covered in old books and stacks of papers, and a quick glance showed they were all written in different languages from one another and noticed several papers had the same symbols on them. There was also a large glass case on the table with something in it but Connor couldn't see what.

"What is all this?" he asked.

Methos went over to the table and opened the glass case and took out a very old and decaying scroll and told Connor, "This is the Immortals' version of the Dead Sea Scrolls. You're a very privileged person, Connor, nobody else has seen these in thousands of years."

"Well I don't get it, what is it?" Connor asked, "What does it all mean?"

Methos paused for a minute before he started to talk, as if he was trying to decide just what the right words were. "You know, Connor, anybody who knows about Immortals likes to think that they know everything about us, all there is, they know all the rules, no fighting on holy ground, no interrupting fights, one on one in fights only, there can be only one at the end of it all…seems pretty simple despite how complicated it makes our lives. But the truth of the matter is that it's all wrong. It was never meant for one Immortal to be the last one standing, or for them all to kill each other off…that was a relatively new idea, one I believe was started by the Hunters thousands of years ago."

"Well what does this have to do with Richie and his sister?" Connor asked.

Methos took great care to unravel the scroll and he showed it to Connor, but it wasn't any good because Connor couldn't read whatever it was. The language it had been scrawled down in, he wasn't sure if it even existed anymore.

"The truth is more depressing and more confusing than anybody would imagine," Methos said, "You've heard of the St. Cloud Brothers, Keith and Seth?"

"Heard of them, never seen them," Connor answered, "I don't think anybody has, they're about as big of a myth as you are."

"That's part of the idea," Methos said, "They have to hide to protect their identities and to keep the world from finding out what the truth is."

"And that is?" Connor wanted to know.

Methos looked past Connor and back towards Kronos, who didn't say anything and didn't indicate anything either way, but both knew they'd already come this far, no sense in stopping now.

"Nobody knows about this," Methos said, "And I mean _nobody_, more people know who Jack the Ripper was, than know this. Once in every thousand years on earth, there are born one set of Immortal twins."

"What?" Connor couldn't believe it, "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious," Methos said, and gestured to the walls, "That's who those people are; once in every thousand years there come into the world two children who will grow up, die a mortal death, and become Immortal together. It was all foreseen thousands of years ago, the ancient Immortals who made these predictions," he gestured to the scrolls, "Decreed that it would be the twins, who 'inherit the earth' so to speak. No 'there can be only one', no prize, no last man standing in all of this mess…instead, when the time comes, the twin Immortals are to become the guardians of this planet when it enters its darkest hour, whatever the hell that's going to be."

The look on Connor's face told Methos that he was having a hard time believing this, and it was understandable; if Methos was just hearing about it for the first time he wasn't sure that he would believe it either, especially after all those thousands of years that people had spread the rumors of there being only one.

"I know this is hard to believe Connor, but it's true," Methos said. He opened one of the large old leather-bound books and showed him a set of scrawls that branched out together like a family tree, and it showed the passing down of every thousand years and the names of the twins that came from that millennium.

"So how do you know about it?" Connor asked.

"I've made it my job to keep these records preserved, for five thousand years, every time there _are_ a new set of twins in the Game, it all goes down here," Methos told him.

"And you really believe this?" he asked.

"I must," Methos told his friend. Kronos came over to him and Methos squeezed his shoulder for support as he added, "You see, Connor, we're one of them."

Connor looked and felt like he'd been hit with a bucket of ice water. "You and…Kronos?"

"I know it's hard to believe," Methos said, "And that's why nobody knows. You're the only person who even knows that Kronos is 5000 years old, to the rest of the world that does know about him, he's only 4000. We can take _no_ chances on anybody ever finding out about the twins. I know how horrible it sounds but a matter of every Immortal for himself is doable, their lives _are_ expendable, but the twins we must protect to our fullest ability. The world can't afford for anything to happen to them."

"Why not?" Connor asked.

Methos showed Connor the records, "Altogether there have been 6 sets of twins throughout known history. You can note from the records that two of those sets are no longer among us." When Connor looked up to meet his eyes, Methos only nodded his head, "Oh yes, Connor, they died…the same way you'd die or we would. Only…did you know that when the twins die, the consequences for their deaths are thrust upon the planet?"

"What do you mean?" Connor wanted to know.

"The first Immortal twins were two men named Cyprus and Seneca. A thousand years later, Kronos and I enter the picture. A thousand years after us, two women: Xenia and Roxana. In the next millennium, a boy and a girl, Augustus and Alexis, and then, two more men, Faustus and Sophus. And _then_, in the last millennium, we were graced with the presence of Keith and Seth St. Cloud." Methos looked as though he was recalling personal memories instead of a cold hard fact from time as he added, "Augustus and Alexis were 17 years old when they became Immortal, and they were able to carry on for a while, but they still lost their heads within time. Even for those times, being a teenager permanently didn't do anybody any favors. Faustus and Sophus were a few years older but the end results were the same. In both cases, both twins died together, in two quick instances, the world lost four of its promised guardians."

Kronos watched Connor to see how the highlander reacted. Connor looked down at the records and the scrolls and was obviously still trying to take it all in, but it was obvious he still couldn't appreciate the relevance of everything being revealed here.

"What was it you said?" he asked Methos, "About when they die, the planet suffers? What did that mean?"

It was with some difficulty that Methos continued, "Augustus and Alexis were killed on August 24th in the year 79 A.D. That was the day Pompeii was destroyed. The Watchers believe that the eruption was connected to a killing on holy ground." He shook his head, "It was a direct result of the twins' death. And then…" Kronos reached over and put his hand on Methos' shoulder as Methos struggled to carry on and explain, "Sophus and Faustus were killed in July of 1201 in Egypt, and on that day, an earthquake hit Egypt and Syria, over a million people were killed. _The_ deadliest earthquake in all of history, it's no coincidence that these events followed their deaths." He looked at Connor again and told him, "Now, in time, the world has forgotten those events, but I can't forget. Don't you see, Connor? The world cannot take the rest of the twins dying, it simply cannot. That's why they above all others _must_ stay alive."

Connor looked at Methos and asked him, "And where do Richie and Richelle come into this?"

"There's a chance that they're the 7th set," Methos told him.

"That's impossible," Connor said, and realized in that instant that he sounded like Duncan, "Don't you think we would've known before now if they were going to be Immortal?"

"You can't," Methos shook his head, "The twins are exempt from the common Immortal rules. Until they die their first deaths, you can't feel a quickening from them."

"How is that possible?" Connor wanted to know.

"Well now really Connor, you disappoint me," Methos told him, "When an Immortal dies from a 'mortal' death, poison, gunshot wounds, stabbed, whatever, it is the quickening that heals the body and restores the life to it, but until that time that they actually return to life gasping for air, you can't feel their quickening; but it's still there, just as it's in 7th set of twins right now, just waiting to be awoken. So we're not sure that they will be, but the chances are good, and it's not just a matter of they have no parents; of us all, one thing we had in common was that in our mortal days we were what you'd consider fortunate. We were all in relatively good health even when the rest of the village was sick, we all took our share of falls, never broke anything."

"Yeah but Richelle is not in good health, you know that, you said yourself she almost died here," Connor said.

"That she isn't," Methos nodded, "But you told me yourself, she's managed to get this far relatively well all things considered. Did you ever wonder why during those low points when her lungs should've suffered paralysis that she only went into fainting spells and blackouts? If she _is_ one of us, then it means her quickening is working overtime to make sure she stays alive. Remember, the quickening usually only heals a body after injury or death, violent death…but this is something that she was _born_ with that could kill her and that's something else altogether. The quickening can't keep her in perfect health, but when the potassium levels drop completely, it ensures that she won't die from it or become paralyzed, even when medicine and all common sense says she should. The quickening is not just a raw source of power within the Immortal's body, its main function is to keep the body alive and moving, and that's what her quickening if she has one, is doing now. That's why it was important to get her stabilized on the pills because a quickening is _not_ supposed to be working to full capacity every hour of every day. And there's something else. You've heard about the Methuselah stone?"

"Vaguely," Connor answered.

"Its powers are supposed to make a mortal person Immortal, some people believe that this is the only way twins could be a possibility, and it _could_ work that way, but it doesn't. None of the twins were ever made Immortal through the means of the stone, however!" Methos added, making sure he had Connor's full attention, "Until all the pieces of the stone are put together, they don't mean anything, they have no power to make anybody Immortal. But, the crystals in individual pieces _do_ have a power that further protects the health and life of the twins during their pre-Immortal lives."

"Are you serious?" Connor asked.

"It's nothing that I can prove," Methos said, "But there are few things here that I can. Before Rebecca Horne divided it between her students, parts of the stone were in the hands of Seneca and Cyprus. Connor, Seneca was our teacher, he found us when we first became Immortal, and he taught us how to fight, and how to stay alive, and he told us why. He had three pieces of the stone. Before we died the first time, the village where we lived had been struck by a plague, most of the people died, almost everybody was sick, and we were no exceptions."

He still remembered, he could still remember that far back, and being _so_ sick he almost welcomed death. They both were, and he remembered well them both lying on the ground near the healer's tent, waiting to die because they knew there was nothing that anybody could do to help them. Neither had been sick much in his life and maybe that was why now they really seemed to suffer. He could still feel the boils on his skin, he still remembered how everything looked when he started to go blind, and how terrifying it was. Seneca and Cyprus were new to the village at the time, and both were in perfect health despite the death and disease surrounding them. When they'd found Kronos and Methos, they'd turned them both onto their backs and pressed the pieces of the stone against their skin; the crystal felt cold somehow but instead it burnt their flesh, at least it felt like it did. But a few days after that, one morning when they woke up, they were both able to see, and their boils were getting smaller and some were starting to disappear. It was a slow process but within a few days they were almost completely healed, and when they saw that most of the village was dead and decaying in the sand, they weren't sure what to make of their own fates.

"So what're you saying, Methos?" Connor asked, "You rubbed them with the crystal and they got better?"

"Not exactly," he answered, "But the week they were sick in bed, I made sure the crystals were near them at all times…maybe it didn't have any effect on them, maybe it didn't make any difference, but you didn't see them those first days."

Richie they'd thought they had lucked out with because he slept through most of it; but Richelle, once they'd gotten her into bed he remembered the first three days when she was suffering from delirium, amidst her constant senseless babbling, the groans and cries that her eyes hurt too much to open and the light only made it worse. They kept her room dark as much as was possible and kept her eyes covered with a cold cloth, and then she went into a series of migraines. They'd reached a point she was screaming for somebody to kill her, and in fact, when Caspian had come into the room, when his back was turned she had reached into a hidden pocket in the back of his jacket and pulled out a gun, aimed it at her head and pulled the trigger. The fact that she had missed was nothing short of a relief but the whole experience was frightening as hell where Methos was concerned.

When he thought of all the time and work that went into trying to make sure she stayed alive, it almost made him sick. They had originally grabbed them up so they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire of a Hunter's bullet. They were trying to buy Richie and his sister some time. They needed a few more years. There was no hope to be found at becoming Immortal at 19. It was a sick joke, the more he thought about it, the more certain he became of that. Most Immortals who experienced their first death as teenagers were dead and had been for some time; it wasn't because they were young or inexperienced, nothing ridiculous like that. There seemed to be an unwritten rule of sorts that anybody who became an Immortal young would not live long enough to enjoy it. He didn't know why, but it seemed to always be that way; even he and Kronos were over 25 when they became Immortals, Seneca and Cyprus had been 32, Xenia and Roxana were 28. Most Immortals who were still alive regardless of when they had died, had in common that they had been somewhere between 20 and 35, Methos didn't know why, he couldn't figure out the riddle of the numbers, and he'd given up trying, he only accepted it for what it was, which was a long, undying record that more times than not, proved accurate.

"We were trying to buy them some time," Methos explained, "She takes after you, and the boy takes after MacLeod, now if MacLeod were to find out about the war between the Immortals and the Hunters, you know he'd rush head on into it, and they'd be right behind him because they're both just as stubborn, and think they can take on anything, and then what? Bang bang and they wake up and find out they can't die, on someone so young I wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy. That's why we're trying to finally bring this mess to an end before we let you take them back. It's going to be bad enough as it is if they become Immortals at 20, or 25 or 30. Any of us if we'd had a choice, would not pick the lives we have…and especially not when fate selects you to be the guardians of the world. That's a job nobody wants but the ones picked can't burn their draft cards, we're stuck with it."

"Fate," Connor replied as he looked at Methos, "Apparently does not keep good records. I know what you've done, Methos, both of you, all four of you, what you were thousands of years ago…how could you _possibly_ be deemed a guardian?"

"You think your cousin's any better a choice for it?" Kronos asked, "I've got news for you, MacLeod, your cousin's got blood on his hands just like us, maybe not as much, but he's not as moral as he likes to pretend he is. He's a murderous bastard just like us, and he kills because he likes it, just like we do."

"I know it!" Connor told him, "You think I don't know? You really think I'm that oblivious to my own kinsman?"

"You're related to him, aren't you?" Kronos asked.

"That's enough out of you," Methos warned his brother, "Be nice."

Kronos shrugged and responded, "I'm _always_ nice."

"Look Connor," Methos told him, "I thought you had a right to know why everything that's happening has. For thousands of years, nobody else has ever known about this, and nobody else ever can, if somebody would find out for whatever reason, from whatever source, the twins will be the first ones hunted down, and even without people knowing we exist it's getting dangerous enough to stay alive. You wouldn't believe the measures some have taken to keep their real identities hidden from the world."

He reached into the middle of a stack of papers and pulled out a photograph of two women, Connor presumed it was Xenia and Roxana. The women looked to be in their late 20s, they were built about the same, one had long dark hair and the other was a blonde, one was tanner than the other, and one wore makeup and the other didn't. They looked complete opposites of each other, and Connor also noted that the photo couldn't have been more than just a few years old.

"They live together of course," Methos explained, "But to make sure nobody finds out what they really are, in public they pass themselves off as lovers."

"And don't think that doesn't turn heads," Kronos added, and Connor himself was reminded of his previous comments about Methos' 'boyfriend'. Slowly it was all making sense to him, and if this all was true then it explained why these two were so close, and why they were always together. But then he thought of something else.

"When you say _nobody_ knows," he said, "You don't mean…"

"That's right," Methos answered, "Silas and Caspian have no idea, they don't know what _we_ are and they don't know what those two might become. All they know is that we give the orders, and so far the orders have been that those two remain alive and unharmed, they don't know why, they don't need to know why."

"Strange family you got," Connor commented.

"Shut up, Kronos," Methos cut him off before he could say anything.

"They really don't know?" Connor asked.

"No."

"How did you manage to pull that one off?"

"The same way that he manages to convince those idiotic Watchers that he's one of them," Kronos answered.

"Gooble gobble," Connor replied cynically.

"It's rather simple, Connor," Methos explained, "There are simply some things that we do not discuss when the others are around. We've been doing it long enough that by now it's a first nature."

"And yet you pride yourselves on being equals," Connor noted.

"And as far as they know, we are," Kronos told him, "Now there's nothing in any of this," he pointed to the records, "That says when we become the guardians that there won't be other Immortals around, and I take that as meaning that there will."

"And we both take that as meaning that Silas and Caspian will still be around then as well," Methos added, "And when that day comes, they'll find out then, but not until then. There's really no point in them knowing it right now."

* * *

><p>"If you don't mind," Connor told Methos as they left Kronos' bedroom, and it was obvious from his tone that he really didn't care what Methos said, "I'm going to look in on the two little monsters before I leave."<p>

"Of course," Methos agreed, "Right this way."

Methos led him down the hall and to another room, opening the door they were both plunged into darkness. Methos hit the lights and Connor saw the two teenagers asleep in the bed, each facing away from each other. Connor went over to the bed and first rolled Richelle onto her back so he could get a better look at her; she was unresponsive so he pressed his thumb against her eyelid and forced it up, her eye never moved.

"Exactly what pills are you slipping them?" he asked, "I might have to pick some up to use on my idiotic cousin."

"How _is_ he taking all of this?" Methos asked.

"Not well as you could probably guess," Connor said, "He's just about sick from the whole ordeal."

"It's too bad that Kronos can't see that for himself, it would do him some good…too bad one thing we weren't able to do was install a camera in the antique shop to watch him pacing the floors," Methos commented, "Tell me something, Connor, you really think he wants these two back?"

Connor knew it was not as simple of a question as it sounded, and he knew what Methos meant.

"He wants Richie back, that much is obvious, Richelle he wants back for the pure sake of ensuring he gets Richie back, otherwise…" he shrugged, "You know despite all this I really don't know if he will behave any better the next time."

"And that's the problem," Methos said, "Of course, I know when you're around that you can counteract some of the damage, but you understand Connor, for their own safety they must be kept close to each other. Because if they are the chosen ones, when they do die, it won't matter where they are, they will die together and they will become Immortal together, and when that time comes they have to be together when they find out what cruel joke fate has inflicted upon them."

Connor didn't look at Methos but somberly asked, "Earlier when you were recalling the twins that died…you knew them?"

"I know all of them," Methos said, "We know of each other's existences, but nobody else does."

"What about your teacher?" Connor asked.

Methos recalled, "Seneca and Cyprus are still alive. No, I'm not the oldest Immortal, there are others who have come before me, and I expect if another set _should_ die, they will remain after me."

"I have a question," Connor said, "If they didn't you know and Kronos were going to be Immortal when they first saw you, how did they know that the Methuselah stone would heal you?"

"They tried it on everybody, we were the only ones who lived to tell about it," he answered.

"I see."

"I had you come here tonight because we're going to be leaving soon, we're relocating to a…safe house of sorts, and we're going to take them with us. Once we're gone we might not be able to contact you, the idea is to lure the Hunters to us, but without our home becoming a hunting ground in the process."

"Thanks for the warning," Connor replied.

* * *

><p>"So the bomb didn't go off, we could have expected as much," Methos told Kronos later that night after Connor had left.<p>

"I don't like it," Kronos told him, "Caspian knows what he's doing, he's been making bombs long enough that he ought to."

"Anything could've gone wrong," Methos said, "I seriously doubt he would've put it in a place that Horton could find and disarm the damned thing before it blew him to hell."

"Well then?" Kronos asked.

"Give me a minute, I'll come up with something," Methos replied, though as soon as he leaned back in the chair, he was just about asleep; tonight had proven more exhausting for him than he'd thought.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" Kronos demanded to know.

"Who?" Methos asked before he could get his eyes open, but once he did he saw it was Richelle, awake and as refreshed as a daisy. Either she hadn't gotten enough sleeping pills in her food or she was becoming immune to their effects.

Richelle pointed past Kronos and said, "This is the only television in the house, it's Friday night meaning Law and Order is on, do you mind, Chancellor? I haven't been able to catch it in the last few weeks but fortunately this isn't a damn soap opera so I won't have to worry about what Ben Stone's _been_ up to."

"Where's your brother?" Methos asked.

"Still asleep," Richelle answered as she padded over to the TV and turned it on, "That boy could sleep through the apocalypse."

"And why don't you?" Kronos wanted to know.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, "I kept having a bunch of weird dreams involving MacLeod and Horton and a big chessboard. Incidentally I heard your bomb didn't go off, not much of a plan now was it?"

Methos groaned to himself as he could just anticipate the hit she'd get if she'd been a few inches closer to Kronos when she'd said that.

"Maybe we underestimated them," he commented, "Think about it, Kronos, the Hunters have existed practically as long as Immortals have, we have an excuse for lasting this long, but how do _they_ do it? How has nobody killed them off before? Exactly _what_ kind of sick bastards are we dealing with here?"

"Resurrectionists?" Richelle asked, and when she turned and caught the glare out of Kronos' right eye she added, "Comprachicos?" And when neither got a response from either man she continued, "Who the hell cares? Whatever the hell they are, they're not amateurs, they _know_ what they're doing."

Methos grabbed Richelle by the arm and jerked her over towards him before she got herself killed.

"So you two knuckleheads are really going through with this relocation deal, eh?" Richelle asked him.

"It would be better than letting the Hunters come here," Methos told her.

"I suppose so, but then _where_ are we going _next_?" she wanted to know.


	17. Chapter 17

"They wouldn't say _where_ we're going but they said we'll be leaving in the next few days," Richelle told Richie the next morning when they were in the kitchen.

"Well I'm with you, sis," he replied, "Anything that gets us home sooner is alright with me, but do you really think they _will_ let us go at the end of this?"

"What else are they going to do with us?" she asked as she tried twisting the lid off a small glass bottle, with a white dish towel wrapped around her hand to get a better grip on it.

"They might kill us," Richie said.

"I doubt it, Richie," she responded, "Seems to me that they need us alive for some reason."

Just as she said that, they both heard the bottle she was holding break and she made a small grunt as she dropped the broken pieces on the table and unwrapped the towel from her hand. It was just at that moment that Caspian came into the kitchen and he saw the large bloodstain on Richelle's hand, but she quickly covered it with the towel and put it down. He went over to her and without a word, grabbed her arm, removed the towel, held her hand up and looked and saw…nothing. There wasn't a mark on her hand, and not a trace of blood to be found.

"Do you mind?" Richelle asked him as she pulled her hand away from him, "I've had this hand a long time and I've become rather _attached_ to it."

They got past him and left the kitchen together, Richie looked to his sister and asked her, "That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No," she answered.

"I didn't think so," he replied.

"Food dye isn't supposed to come off that easily," she said, "If my plan's going to work I'm going to have to find some way to make that stuff _really_ stick to the skin."

"So now what do we do?" Richie asked.

"Well let's see, what time is it?" she asked, "9 A.M., I say we call MacLeod again and give him hell."

Maybe the constant exposure to his sister was just rubbing off on him or maybe everything that had happened in the last few weeks was starting to make him crazy, but Richie's response was, "Fine with me."

They headed upstairs but made a quick detour through Kronos' room; Richelle crawled under his bed and pulled out the spiked boots they'd found there before. She couldn't explain why but she told Richie she had an idea it would be a good move to bring these along with them whatever they were going. From there they proceeded to Methos' room and found that half of the stuff in it had been moved around and looked like a tornado had swept in.

"What do you think this is?" Richie asked.

"Probably packing a few things to take to the other place," Richelle said as she sorted through an assortment of things trying to find the phone, "This guy's got more belongings than brains." She snaked her hands around and under a skull candleholder, a silver ashtray, a few large coins, an old jack-in-the-box, a Ouija board planchette, a pocket pistol, and just before she snagged the cord to the Batmobile phone, she bumped a book on the table with the front cover open and she glanced at the title page and did a double take.

"Hey Richie, look at this," she said.

Richie went over to his sister and saw what she saw and said, "Oh my God."

* * *

><p>Downstairs, Methos and Kronos had had a similar idea and Methos had called the antique shop, but he didn't get the answer he'd hoped for.<p>

"Hello?"

"Connor?" he asked, "Where's your cousin?"

"He's out at the moment," Connor told him, "What's going on?"

"Oh nothing," he answered, "Just thought I'd make his day a little more miserable, how're things going over there?"

He could hear Connor chuckling as he responded, "He's just about ready to crawl out of his skin and hit the ceiling. I _should_ be ashamed of myself for going along with this and finding it funny, but I'm not."

"Well now I know where Richelle gets it from," Methos told him.

"Oh she's far worse than I am," Connor assured him, "She hates everything about him and would be only too pleased to see him pushing up the daisies. She's a nice girl but she's got the worst personality of anybody I've ever seen."

"So noted," Methos chuckled lightly, "I…"

He'd heard something and turned around and he and Kronos were caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Richie and Richelle. Richelle walked over to Methos and took the receiver from him and said, "Hello, Connor? Yes it's me," she glared at Methos through one eye as she said, "These friends of yours are some of the weirdest people we've ever had the misfortune of coming across. Yes we're fine. Uh-huh, well I guess we'll see you whenever the hell this whole mess is over. Okay, goodbye." She hung up the phone and looked at Methos.

"So you found us out," Methos said.

Richelle didn't respond at first, she just looked at him with a sinister smirk on her face like she was planning something ominous. Then she laughed, slightly and maniacally, and replied, "You conniving son of a bitch. You knew Connor, that's how you found out about us and _that's_ why Connor's file in the Watcher Chronicles is almost empty, because you're friends with him and you make sure nothing compromising goes into _his_ record."

Methos couldn't remove the canary stuffed grin on his face as he started to laugh responsively and he asked her, "So how'd you finally figure it out?"

"Well I had my suspicions about you for a while, I knew there had to be _some_ reason that Frick and Frack weren't allowed to kill us, no matter what we did. And when I found the Watcher archives and saw that Connor's file was cut to the bone and MacLeod's was overflowing with every little detail of his life, I knew something was up but I wasn't sure yet just what of."

"Well you're good," Methos said, feigning impressiveness at her deduction, "You ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

"That coke head, are you kidding?" Richelle shook her head, "No way. Now you knew about Connor, that much was obvious, and you never tried to find out any information on him, meaning you had to know everything about him already that you wanted to know. But the smoking gun was when we back up to your room, and I found this out on the table." Richelle produced a slim hardcover book from her pocket, "A Collection of Gaelic Ghost Stories, and with an inscription; now I may not understand a single damn word of Gaelic, but I _do_ know Connor's handwriting _and_ his signature."

Kronos turned and looked at Methos and just shook his head as if he couldn't believe it.

"Well we're none of us perfect," Methos said, he turned to Richelle and told her, "I don't want you getting any wrong ideas about Connor, he _should_ have known what we were doing but until a few days ago he didn't, we didn't tell him because we couldn't take a chance on somebody following the communication and tracking it back to him. Things are dangerous enough for Immortals as it is, I could see no point in further jeopardizing Connor's wellbeing."

"Well I kind of figured if he'd known he would've given us an advanced warning," Richelle replied, "So now what?"

"Now we move ahead as planned," Methos said, "We're getting out of here."

"Oh joy, trading one dump for another, and where's this new shack?" Richelle wanted to know.

* * *

><p>"They won't tell us where it is until we get there, can you believe that?" Richelle asked as she picked up the bowling ball in Methos' room and carried it out, "So for the time being all we can do is pack up anything we need to take with us and wait to find out where we're being hijacked."<p>

"Why're you taking that?" Richie asked as he picked up the Stripe and Mohawk dolls.

"I have my reasons," she said.

"Hey sis," Richie said, "You really think those fruitcakes are going to let us go home at the end of this?"

"Why shouldn't they?" Richelle asked, "I doubt they're worried about Duncan tracking them down and coming after them. Besides, they wouldn't dare do anything to us, they know Connor would come over here and kick their ass."

"Yeah, but there's one of him and four of them," Richie reminded her, "I don't like those odds."

"You should never gamble, you have no faith in it," she told her brother as they headed out of the room and down the stairs.

On their way down, they just about collided with Methos and Kronos who were making their way up and everybody fell down in the middle of the stairway.

"What's going on?" Richelle asked.

"Nothing," Methos answered as they got up, "Just making sure we didn't forget anything."

That said to Richie that wherever they were going, it was plenty far away since they weren't anticipating making any returns for anything forgotten. The two Immortals got past them but the twins decided to follow after them to see what they were up to. Richie followed after them first, and Richelle followed after him just as soon as she got rid of the bowling ball, by dropping it over the banister and directly onto Caspian's head. The scream that ensued echoed throughout half of the house, then Richelle hotfooted it to catch up with the others.

"I don't care _what_ you say," Kronos told Methos, "Before we leave I'm going to call that moron MacLeod again. Even if he would manage to find out where the calls have been coming from, it wouldn't matter because we won't be here."

Richelle saw him reaching for one of the phones on the table and she came up behind him and stopped him and explained as she pointed at them one at a time, "You don't want to use that one, no call ever goes through, nobody ever answers, it just rings and rings. And this one is stuck to the table, you'd never be able to pick it up and the same goes for the receiver, and _that_ one has a trick cord that is stuck at three inches but shoots out to 300 feet," and she pointed to the Batmobile phone, "That's the only one that actually works."

There was something to her explanation that told Kronos that she didn't know this from personal experience, and he turned to Methos and said to him, "I don't even want to know _how_ she knew that. Whichever one works get MacLeod on the line, I want to have a word with that addlebrained, hypocritical, egotistical, empty headed—"

"Haggis!" Richelle cut him off.

"Thank you," Kronos dryly replied.

Methos shrugged as he picked up the phone and dialed the number of the antique shop. After it rang a couple of times he heard the receiver hastily picked up and heard MacLeod, sounding out of breath, "Hello?"

Methos smiled mischievously and his eyes seemed to light up as he responded, "Hello, MacLeod."

He could hear the exhaustion and desperation in the exasperated huff that MacLeod let out, followed by, "You bastards, who are you? Why are you doing this? What have you done with them?"

"Oh now now, MacLeod," Methos said patronizingly, "One thing at a time, that's how your mind works anyway."

He held the receiver away from his ear as Duncan exploded into a string of obscenities and curses and it was all he could do to keep from laughing, as was the case with the others.

"Really MacLeod," Methos told him, "Is that how you talk to somebody that holds the lives of your friends in his hands?"

On the other end of the line, just as Duncan opened his mouth to respond, he heard the door open behind him and Connor stepped in.

"What's going on?" Connor wanted to know.

Duncan put his hand over the mouthpiece on the receiver and said, "It's them again."

"Here, give me that," Connor took the phone from him, "Hello!"

Methos did a double take, he couldn't risk saying the wrong thing but he knew that voice anywhere, "Connor?"

"This is Connor MacLeod," he answered in an authoritative tone, "I want to speak to Richelle Ryan, _put her on the phone_!"

Methos covered the mouthpiece on his phone and held it out to Richelle and said only, "It's for you."

"Boy I'm more popular here than back home," she said as she took the phone from him, "Hello?"

"Richelle," she heard Connor's voice. Even though he knew what was going on and she knew that he did, she also knew that he was in a tight spot and couldn't say what he was really thinking. Instead it all had to be done for Duncan's benefit. "Richelle, what's going on, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Connor," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And Richie?"

"He's here," Richelle held the phone out towards her brother and said, "Say hi to Connor, Richie."

Richie tried not to laugh as he hollered clear across the room, "HI CONNOR!"

"Hear that?" Richelle asked as she put the receiver by her ear again.

"Richelle, where are you?" Connor asked.

"I can't tell you that, Connor, we're getting out of here and going somewhere else," Richelle told him, "I'm not sure but I think they said that we're going to Chicago."

"What!" she heard Connor reply, but could tell from the tone of his voice that it was all for dramatic purposes, and that gave her an idea.

"Connor I can't tell you much more than that, I…" she cut off and took a step over towards Methos and Kronos and said, "Hey! What're you doing? Don't come near me, don't you…"

Methos was quick to pick up on what her idea was, and since he knew they couldn't do anything to give themselves away, knowing that his brother would have to be perfectly restrained, verbally anyway, he reached over and slapped Kronos as hard as he could, and Richelle let out a grunt to go with it. Kronos didn't say anything or make any sound in response, but he returned the favor and backhanded Methos so hard that he fell back. Richelle screamed and with her free arm, knocked half the assorted items off the table and they all crashed to the floor. By now Duncan had gotten the receiver again and heard the commotion and even though nobody could possibly hear him he was yelling into it, to whoever was in the room, for an answer of what was going on. Kronos took the receiver from Richelle and said into it, "Sorry, MacLeod, but time's up, we'll get in touch with you again."

For good measure there was another sound of somebody getting hit and Richelle screaming in pain just before the call was disconnected.

Duncan let out a howl of frustration as he slammed the phone down. Connor stood alongside him and just shook his head, "Don't worry, Duncan, I don't think it's as bad as they're making it seem."

"You don't know that," Duncan said as he pressed the flat of his hand against his eyes and groaned.

"They let them talk to you, we know they're still alive, they must need Richie and his sister kept alive for some reason," Connor told him, "If it's not a challenge and they don't want your head, what could the reason be for any of this happening?"

"I don't know!" Duncan yelled at him, "I've been trying to figure that out for almost a month now, I don't know!"

Connor looked at him and said, "And I suppose it wouldn't do any good to ask who you've pissed off in the last couple hundred years, we'd need a phonebook for that."

"Connor please," Duncan looked like he was suffering from a migraine, "No jokes."

"Oh I'm not joking," he replied, "You've done well to make a name for yourself over the years, along with a lot of enemies, and I know you well enough to know that they aren't all dead. Who have you allowed to walk away? Who could still be alive that is capable of a stunt like this?"

* * *

><p>"They said we'll spend one more night in this damn mausoleum and then we'll head on to the other place," Richelle told Richie that night as they got ready for bed. She turned around and saw Richie had a weird look on his face and asked him, "What is it?"<p>

"I don't like the way that sounds," he told her.

"Don't worry, Richie, no matter what happens, I'll get us out of it," she said.

"Boy you're awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?" Richie asked her.

"How long have you known me?" she asked him.

Richie rolled his eyes and shook his head. There was a knock on the door and they looked and saw Methos come in.

"I almost forgot," he told them, "A few nights ago when Connor was here he brought these with him." He reached into his pockets and took out the candy bar and the small bag of licorice and gave them to the twins. "He'd left them in your room while you were asleep but at the time it was decided it was not a good idea for you to find them, lest you start putting the pieces together."

"I stand by my original statement," Richelle said as she ripped the bag open, "Nobody ever tells us anything, you all think we're just as stupid as MacLeod does. Or maybe you just think we're as stupid as MacLeod _is_."

"Not at all," Methos insisted, "We just don't believe in taking any unnecessary chances, and if you've been around MacLeod as much as you've said, you'd know he never does that."

Richelle grabbed a handful of the licorice but didn't take it out of the bag. Richie looked down at it in hopes he'd see whatever the hell she was looking at, she finally looked up and said, "It's to my understanding that there's a certain ingredient in licorice that can actually worsen hypokalemia, so it turns out the thing that I love the most is actually what's slowly killing me. Story of my life."

There was something wrong with her statement and both Methos and Richie were able to pick up on what it was, it was the first time that when faced with the ordeal of her own mortality, that Richelle _didn't_ say that it was her life and it wouldn't matter to anybody if she died.

"Organic maybe," Methos finally told her, "But that stuff isn't so it should be safe enough."

Richelle looked up at him for a second before looking back down at the candy. "Well, I guess you're right," she said with a hint of defeat in her tone, and she pulled half the licorice apart from the clump and held it out to her brother. Richie hesitantly took it and in return broke the candy bar in half and gave one piece to her.

* * *

><p>"We move around more with these four idiots than a hummingbird does," Richelle groaned to her brother as they bobbed up and down on the bumpy road the next day.<p>

"Mmmmm-hmmmmm," Richie's murmur was stuttered as they hit several more bumps.

Richelle leaned over the headrest on the front seat and asked Methos, "How long till we get there?"

"About half an hour," he answered, "Just relax."

"So says the one _not_ getting seasick and we ain't even near the water," she replied as she sat back down.

Richie half turned around to look out the back window and saw the second car following behind them. He didn't know why the other two monkeys had to follow behind them, it wasn't like they were dumb enough to pull anything this time. He supposed it didn't make much difference either way but he wasn't too fond of the four extra eyes in back of them watching their every move in the car. He just hoped that whatever Methos' plan was, that it worked; it was a horse being beaten to death, but he wanted to go home! He wanted to see Mac and Tessa again! He wanted to see his old room again, to be able to walk outside without having to worry about a target being on his back because of the people he was living with, and even if his sister couldn't admit it to the same extent he knew she felt the same way.

Somewhere along the way they'd gotten off the beaten path but in all Richie estimated that this new location was only about 15 or 20 minutes from being in town once again. There were a lot of trees and by now a lot of dead leaves that completely covered the ground, but Richie didn't see any other houses, any people, he didn't even see any power lines up among the trees so he couldn't wait to see what kind of a dump they got put in now. When they saw the new hideout, neither twin could believe it; it was a smaller house, two stories tall, and while there wasn't anything specific about the details of either the house's architecture or the appearance, there was something about the place that just struck them as off.

"Like the Addams Family's summer home," Richelle murmured to Richie when they got out of the car, and he nodded in agreement.

Richelle went over to Methos and Kronos and asked them, "When was the last time anybody stayed in this roach motel?"

"A while," was Methos' only answer, "Come on."

They went up to the house and went in and saw from the inside that it was built similarly to the last place; only this one had less furniture in it and what there was, was all covered by drop cloths. They went in and pulled the sheets off the couch and the chairs and got a good look at their new surroundings.

"This is what happens when you join a club that'll actually have you as a member," Richelle told her brother.

"It doesn't look _too_ bad," Richie said, "At least the place ain't falling down around us."

"Not yet," she looked up to the ceiling, "Give it time, I'll bet in a couple weeks the place won't even be left standing. At least it's not as bad as that apartment we were kept in the first week."

Richelle made a beeline for the fridge that was plugged in and working, but was she said, "As empty as that damn fool MacLeod's head!"

"Makes sense," Richie told her, "They haven't been here in a while, they wouldn't leave anything around to rot."

"I suppose not," she said, "But they better get something in here to eat and soon."

Richie looked through the cupboards and found a few things but he had to side with his sister, it might've been well preserved for years to come, whatever it was, but it wasn't anything they'd eat.

"I wonder what the rest of this place looks like?" he said, and they decided to see, starting with the back yard.

Stepping out the back door and down onto the porch, they looked and saw a large wooden building with the white paint half knocked off standing behind the house and determined it had to be the garage. They picked the lock on the door and pulled it open and were surprised at the first thing they saw. Inside the garage was a large black motorcycle, not very old and it looked like it had been reinforced with a bullet proofed windshield and steel shielding to protect the gas tank from the front and sides. And both also noticed that there was a scabbard attached to the front, holding what they presumed to be a machine gun like the bikes built during World War II.

"Who do you think this belongs to?" Richie asked.

"My guess would be Caspian," Richelle said as she sat on it and became familiar with its build, "It looks like him."

"Think it works?" he asked.

"One way to find out," she replied, "Where do you think he'd keep the keys?"

"On him," he guessed.

"I doubt that," she said, "Let's see if they're around here somewhere."

Richie found the light switch and the garage became illuminated and they saw it was filled with plenty of junk but they didn't find a set of keys anywhere. They heard the Immortals nearby and decided to get out of there for the time being, so they hotfooted it back into the house and decided to see what the rest of the inside looked like. Heading upstairs they could right away see where the difference in size came in; this house only had two floors, and all the bedrooms were considerably smaller here than at the other house, and another difference they noted was there was no war room.

"You think they're going to put us in one of these rooms?" Richie asked.

"I don't know," she replied, "But it may be in our best interest to stay downstairs tonight, incase we'd have to get out of here in a hurry."

"Where, on the floor?" Richie asked.

She shook her head, "I think that couch in the living room is the pull-out kind. Granted those mattresses are always shot to hell, but for a couple of nights we can manage, we've put up with far worse so far."

He nodded in agreement, though hesitantly.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Richelle was right and there was a hide-a-bed built into the couch, but they didn't pull it out that night, instead they both remained seated on the couch watching television, and that was the same position they were in when they finally fell asleep, but not for long. Richelle woke up when she heard the back door close and she got Richie up and they went to the kitchen and looked out the window and saw one of the cars leaving. They didn't know who had left the house or why, but they decided they would follow. During the day they'd found a couple spare sets of keys in a drawer when they'd searched the whole house to see where everything was, and they figured one set had to be for the motorcycle in the garage. So they took the keys and headed out to the garage, and after a few tries they finally found the right key to start it up. Richelle drove it, insisting she still didn't trust Richie after he crashed last year and landed them both in the hospital, and with that, her brother rode behind her, hanging on for dear life since he knew his sister well enough to know how she drove.<p>

Since there wasn't any road leading to the house and there was only one known way in and out, they had a good idea which way the car had gone and it didn't take them long to find themselves back on the paved road and half a mile behind the only car out driving that night. Richelle kept the light off so they wouldn't be seen, they didn't know what was going on but they had no intention of going back to the house and staying there for the rest of the night. If there was going to be another massacre between the Immortals and the Hunters, they wanted in on it; they'd already been giving their lives for the cause of Immortals, so they couldn't see any reason why they didn't belong in the middle of the action with the others.

After a few minutes they saw the car come to a stop and the lights go out, just as it pulled up to a large dark house where it didn't look like anybody was home. They parked the bike in the midst of a bunch of trees and made their way up to the house on foot.

"Think they're going to torch this place too?" Richie asked.

"Bomb it," she corrected him, "And maybe, though I can't see why, it doesn't look like anybody lives here."

The moon was out and offered some light on the subject so they could see things a little, and they were able to make out the outlines of two people up by the house, who judging by their size, the twins guessed to be Methos and Kronos, but they turned a corner and didn't come back after that. Richie and Richelle stayed halfway between the street and the house and looked at each other to determine what they should do now when they heard gunshots ring out. It came from behind the house and that's where they went running to see what had happened, and who it had happened to. But when they reached the back of the house, they looked around and couldn't see anybody.

"Where'd they go?" Richie asked.

"I don't know," Richelle replied.

And that was the last thing she said because a second later something hit her in the back of the head and she fell to the ground screaming, and only a few seconds later, Richie followed.

* * *

><p>Kronos returned to life, not with the usual choking gasp for air, but with a quiet moan, as if he'd been suddenly awakened instead. He realized he was lying on the floor somewhere, and he started to sit up when it occurred to him that he could feel another quickening nearby but he didn't see anybody. "Methos?"<p>

"Over here," he heard his brother whisper from one of the corners of the room, "How're you feeling?"

Kronos thought back and remembered his last conscious thoughts had been when he felt a ripping pain in his back that exited through his chest and knew his heart had been blown into Swiss cheese by five quick shots. His chest and back were still killing him but he got up and saw that they were in a dark room somewhere.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Apparently," Methos answered, "They dumped us in one of the rooms upstairs, but there aren't any windows in here."

"No problem, we'll go out the door," Kronos said as he stood up.

"We couldn't get that lucky," Methos grimly told his brother, "I already tried it, it's locked, and it can only open about an inch so you can see the wires. They've got a bomb attached to the door and if we try anything to open it up, we're all going to get blown to hell."

"Now that's irony," Kronos remarked as he crouched down in the middle of the room again.

"Unfortunately," Methos added as he knelt down beside him, "You can be sure that there's a timer on it as well meaning one way or another, unless we can find another way out of this room, we're still going to be blown to bits."

Before either could say anything else, they were shocked by a sudden light in the room. Once their eyes adjusted they realized that the light was coming through a hole in one of the floorboards, emanating from the floor directly below them. The two Horsemen crawled over to the hole in the floor and were able to see what was going on down below, and it didn't look good. Richie and Richelle were laying in the middle of the floor and were surrounded by half a dozen men in black clothes. Richelle slowly brought her arm up and felt the back of her head where she'd been hit and groaned as she slowly came around, and Richie was right behind her.

"So this is what hell looks like," Richelle murmured when she stood up and saw the Hunters standing around them, "It's worse than I thought."

They were able to get a better look at their surroundings and saw that it was the house's living room, or what they thought was the living room anyway. One side of the room was covered in eight large windows, none of them open, naturally, and to another side of the room was a lit fireplace, and in the middle was a table and several chairs, and there were two doorways leading out of the room but they didn't know where to.

"Who are you?" one of the men asked them.

Richelle turned and glared at him through one eye as if she were inconvenienced by his question. "Han Solo, and this," she grabbed Richie by the arm, "Is John the Baptist, so who the hell are you?"

The man's only response however, was to take out a gun and aim it at them. Richie held his hands up at shoulder-length but Richelle wasn't fazed by it. The man walked over to them and stuck his free hand into Richie's jacket pockets one at a time, and then into Richelle's.

"Whatever you're looking for, you aren't going to find it," she told him.

When nothing was found in her pockets, the man altered his aim and tried to stick his hand down her shirt. Richelle moved quickly and in a bad attempt at a karate chop, raised her arm and hit him square in the nose with the side of her hand. Richie's heart skipped a beat but when the gun didn't go off he was able to breathe again, but he knew their trouble was just starting. One of the other Hunters in turn hit Richelle in the back of the head, but she spun around and elbowed him in the chin; she didn't say anything but after going through a similar treatment with Silas and Caspian, this was a routine as common to her as breathing. He tried to grab her by the arm but only got her by the shirt, all the same he was still called off by his associates since they didn't know yet who these two were.

Another one of the Hunters spoke up and burst the bubble when he announced, "I know who the boy is."

The twins both got the same look on their faces when they heard that.

"That's Richie Ryan, the kid that MacLeod took in last year."

"Then who the hell is this?" another asked as he pointed at Richelle.

Kronos looked over and saw Methos scribbling something down on a scrap of paper he'd taken out of his coat pocket.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered.

"Remembering something Richelle said," Methos answered, "And hoping she can pick up on a hint." And he held the paper directly over the hole in the floorboard and dropped it through. It floated down and landed on the table right beside the twins, and its descent hadn't been noticed but its appearance was. One of the Hunters picked it up and read it and asked Richelle, "Routine 13, what the hell is routine 13?"

Richelle had been inching along towards one of the doors but when she heard that she stopped and slowly turned back around and faced them. She stood close to her brother who looked just about as clueless as she was. Richelle then inched along until the only thing separating her from the man was the table and the chairs between them.

"I'm trying to remember," she said, "I can never remember if routine 13 is this," and she gouged him in the eyes, and while he was momentarily blinded she added, "Or this!" and she picked up the chair and beat him over the head with it.

Six against two was no fair fight under any circumstances but as it was the twins suddenly found themselves with a fight on their hands and they used anything they could get their hands on and to the best of their ability, and they managed to hold their own fairly well and beat the hell out of whoever got close to them, but they knew it wouldn't last. Fortunately it didn't have to, they both heard the commotion coming from above, the sound of old, rotted wood cracking, splintering and falling apart and they looked up just in time to see the ceiling fall away and Methos and Kronos come falling through and hit the ground floor, taking two of the Hunters down with them in the process.

"Nice of you to drop in!" Richelle cynically commented, "What kept you?"

"Never mind that," Methos said as they got up and grabbed the twins, "Come on!"

Unfortunately there wasn't any time to explain why; a couple of the Hunters who hadn't been knocked out had, while nobody was watching, gotten a couple of gas cans and threw it at the Immortals. Luckily the gasoline didn't hit them but unfortunately it hit the floor close to the fireplace and in a few seconds half the living room had gone up in flames, just like the other house had. It was time for an emergency exit and both Immortals knew it, they each grabbed one of the twins and crashed through the windows and managed to get out just before that whole side of the house exploded in flames and smoke. Richie and Richelle had no time for relief of their narrow escape however, because it occurred to them that they had been taken off in different directions. Richelle saw Methos dragging Richie off one way and she tried to follow after them but Kronos grabbed her and locked one arm under her chest and dragged her off in the opposite direction.

"What the hell are you doing!" she demanded to know, and struggled against his grip, but to no avail. She tried to break free but nothing she tried worked, she beat her fists on him screaming, "You _bastard_!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Richie had also wanted to know what the hell was going on so he threw all of his weight back in an attempt to throw Methos off balance and force him to stop. It worked, if only for a second, and he demanded to know, "What the <em>hell<em> is going on, Methos? What the hell are you doing!"

"Trying to save my neck and yours, what does it look like?" he replied defensively.

But the answer wasn't good enough for Richie, "Where the hell is he taking Richelle? Why didn't they come with us?"

"Come on, Richie," Methos jerked him along again and they ran until they came close to the river and once they were there, Methos slowed down and explained to Richie, "You two shouldn't have come!"

"Well we did, so now what?" Richie asked.

"There's a chance some of them survived the blast," Methos said, "And if so, they'll be after us and so will any other Hunter in the vicinity. If they have to split up into two directions, it'll be harder for them to find all of us so we stand a better chance of staying alive and getting back." He stopped and Richie almost walked into him, Methos turned around to face him and added, "However, it would _not_ be in our best interest to go back to the house tonight. If we stay out of sight until at least tomorrow night, nobody's going to still be on the trail, they'll follow it past our destination and we'll have bought ourselves some time."

"I don't get it!" Richie said, "Where the hell are we going then?"

Methos tried to be reassuring as he told him, "Don't worry, Richie, this is something that Kronos and I figured out before we even came here. We figured if we _did_ have to take off in different directions and take you two with us, where would be a safe place to meet up once the heat dies down. But for the time being we have to get out of sight and lay low for a while."

Even in the dark he could see the confusion and despair on the boy's face; Richie's mind was racing as he tried to think of how to even respond to that.

"Where the hell is he taking Richelle?" he demanded to know, and he fell against Methos, practically crying as he demanded to know, "Where the hell's he taking my sister?"

* * *

><p>Richelle stood back from the old building and looked at it as if by approaching the door, it may lunge out and bite her. She heard the lock break, the bolt give way, the doors fall open, and she saw Kronos come back around towards her.<p>

"I'm not going in there," she told him.

"Oh yes you are," Kronos grabbed her by the arm.

She pulled back and insisted, "I'm _not_ going in there!"

"Nobody's going to look for either of us in a place like this," Kronos told her, "It may be old but it's not going to fall down on us during the night."

"You don't get it, do you?" Richelle asked him, "It's has nothing to do with the place being condemned and shut down, _I'm not going in that place_!"

"You have no choice," Kronos replied as he grabbed her again and jerked her to follow behind him, and they walked into the rundown church. The doors were closed and barricaded behind them and the next thing Richelle knew, Kronos had her by the arm again and was dragging her along to another room.

She would almost swear she had never been in this place before in her life, but she couldn't be sure. She was aware that this was not New York, but as she looked around at the dozens of empty pews she could see all the people who had came here every Sunday for probably 50 years until the place got condemned; and she could just about see the damn priest up on the platform, preaching to the congregation in Latin, going on about sin and redemption and blood and holy water and all that crap. She was aware that she had stopped walking down the middle of the main aisle as she looked around at the place, and she saw Kronos doubling back when he realized she wasn't following him.

"Why did we have to come to _this_ place?" she demanded to know.

"Because the cemetery has people guarding it these days," Kronos cynically answered.

She pulled away from him when he tried to grab her again. "Neither of us is safe here," she said, "Holy ground only protects Immortals from other Immortals, but _I'm_ not an Immortal, and neither are those bastards who were chasing us."

"This isn't about that," Kronos told her, "It's about nobody is going to look in a church that's been shut down for 25 years for a couple of fugitives."

"I hate this place," she insisted, "It's evil, I can feel it."

She heard him snort and he remarked, "I'd expect that from Methos, but you're a bit young for that kind of cynicism."

"It's not cynicism," Richelle replied, "It's truth, I've been in places like this before, and they're all the same."

She wouldn't move willingly so Kronos got behind her and pushed her along as she continued to talk, "People call church a sanctuary, that people could come here for refuge, this ain't no damn sanctuary, ain't no refuge to be found in a place like this. Who comes in a place like this anyway? Beggars and whores, that's who. Looking for a place to sleep, a place to hide from the authorities, somewhere to get out of the cold, _hoping_ to find something to eat, to ward off starvation, and what do they find here? Do they find refuge?" She shook her head, "No, no refuge, no mercy, no charity, all that can be found in a place like this is a bunch of hypocritical bastards who look down on anybody who isn't like them."

It seemed to Kronos that things clearly did _not_ change, another lifetime, another millennium and he was still hearing practically the same things he heard his brother complain about thousands of years ago.

"You really have been to the church then," he noted.

"Not by choice," Richelle told him as she walked down one aisle and looked over the pews, "Their faith is not my faith, their beliefs are _not_ my beliefs."

It was amazing, Kronos noted, somehow somebody figured out how to bring Methos' words out of Richelle's mouth and in her own voice.

Richelle looked around the darkened room and she could still remember very well. Connor had been raised in what they knew to be the Catholic faith, he didn't consider himself a particularly good Catholic but a Catholic nonetheless; as such he still went to a Catholic church in New York on a somewhat regular basis, did everything that the others did, took communion, lit candles, all that worthless crap. There were few things he'd done since Richelle had met him that she saw worthy of criticism, but there was one, one that she could never forget and doubted she would ever forgive; the one time he tried to take her to church with him. It had been a mistake, because he soon found out it was the same church that she'd been dragged to once as a child while she was being bounced around from one foster home to another, and she could still remember the priest beating her upside the head when they had found out she'd eaten all the little cookies and drank all the wine at communion. What the hell was she supposed to know about it? She'd asked, she was only 7 years old when it happened, and she was starving, the people she got placed with were never too good to remember to feed her. She remembered asking Richie if he'd ever done the same thing and being surprised and somewhat relieved when he answered that he hadn't, that the idea had never even occurred to him.

Shortly after they'd met, they had debated on who had had it worse as a kid. They'd compared everything they could think of and the only thing they could determine was that they seemed pretty evenly matched. Although Richelle thought Richie had her beat by a few points because she never had a foster parent die on her, especially not one that she actually thought of as her real parent. She'd heard about his futile search to find out about his 'mother', and her husband, and when he'd told her she hadn't known what to tell him then, and she didn't have any better idea now either. At least she had the comfort of knowing that she'd always been alone, there never was anybody out there who wanted her or who was looking for her, and there never would be, there would never be anybody who cared about her as long as she lived.

* * *

><p>Methos turned his head and opened his eyes. He'd heard something but he doubted he'd actually been to sleep yet to be woken up by it. His neck popped when he moved it again and he started to sit up. It took him a minute to remember where they were, they were underground. He'd explained to Richie that there was another tunnel running under the surface of the earth that went the long way around in leading to the underground vault at the cemetery where the Watchers and Immortals were buried. This path ran along the river, and as far as anybody could tell, the Hunters hadn't found out about it yet, nor had anybody else, just the four brothers. Richie thought it was odd that the place was dry, but it was still cold and it creeped him out to think about where they were because he couldn't stop thinking then what if the ground above them caved in on them during the night? Methos assured him that this tunnel had been standing, in full, for over 30 years, and no part of it had caved in yet, but Richie still wasn't entirely convinced.<p>

They'd lit the area with a couple of lanterns so they'd be able to see each other at least; down here there were no lights and no way to see up at what was going on above them. The positive side to that was though that nobody else could look down and see them or what they were doing either. It had been planned long ago that this place might serve as a hideout and temporary shelter from either something or somebody, so they'd had a few supplies ready and waiting down there; among other things there had been several large blankets and sheets, that were still covered in dirt after being shaken off but that was the least of their problems right now.

As Methos stood up and cleared his head, he realized that the noise he'd heard was Richie, and as he looked around he also realized he couldn't see the boy anywhere. At first he hadn't thought he'd be able to even get Richie to calm down and go to sleep; he was hellbent to find his sister and make sure she was alright, and it took a while to convince him that they could only wait to ensure her safety and possible survival. He'd thought that the kid had finally gone to sleep, but he guessed he was wrong. He walked ahead about 30 feet into the tunnel and saw Richie was pressed up against one side, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head slumped over so he was practically in a ball. At first Methos thought Richie had fallen asleep like that and was groaning in his sleep but then it hit him that Richie was very much awake, and seemed to be in misery.

"Richie," he tiredly said as he headed over towards him, "What is it?"

He heard Richie mumble something but he couldn't understand it; he knelt down beside the boy and pressed his ear closer to him and asked, "What?"

This time Richie pulled his face up from his knees and he said, a bit more coherently this time, "If anything happens to Richelle, it'll be my fault."

Oh this had to be a good one. Methos leaned over towards him and asked, "What?"

Richie looked up towards Methos but wouldn't look him in the eyes as he said, "If she dies, it'll be my fault."

"Richie, what are you talking about?" Methos asked.

Richie reached into his pocket and took out a small bottle and he told Methos, "When we were getting everything packed up to come to the new house, I took her pills, and I kept them with me so she wouldn't forget to take them. But now I don't even know where the hell she is and if she gets sick because she doesn't have them…"

Methos almost laughed. He sat against the wall beside Richie and told him, "It'll take more than that to kill your sister, Richie. A couple of days without them isn't going to do her much damage, and we'll catch up with them again before that long, you'll see."

"I hope so," he said as he held his head in his hands, "I _really_ hope so. If she dies…"

Methos put an arm around Richie's back and told him, "Don't worry about it, Richie, she's managed to last a lot longer before without them."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that she can again," Richie replied, "Luck always runs out."


	18. Chapter 18

Through the stained glass window Kronos had seen the sun come up in the morning. He hadn't been to sleep, and he wouldn't. He had no reason to believe that _anybody_ could be storming the church, it had been abandoned and probably condemned for over 20 years, but they'd already taken so many chances, he wasn't up to taking another one, not _yet_ anyway. First he was going to make contact with Methos, and then they'd figure out what the next move was. But before that happened, he'd have to wait, they had agreed, when the sun went down tonight _then_ they would come out and join up again.

He paced around the chapel restlessly and every so often he glanced back at Richelle who was sleeping on one of the pews. Sometime during the night she'd taken her jacket off and folded it under her head for a pillow. And no wonder, Kronos thought as he ran his hand over one of the pews, 2000 years and they couldn't make these damn things anymore comfortable than when he last attended one willingly. The kid was out of it, she never even moved as he walked past her, he stopped in mid-step and grabbed her arm; of course the old church had been drafty all night, they all were, but even so she felt like ice. He took his jacket off and draped it over her, at least one of them could get some rest.

Looking to the light shining through the window again, he estimated that it was about eight o' clock in the morning; this was late autumn and the sun would be going down in about nine hours. Well, he would wait; at his age, patience was a given.

Richelle groaned and rolled over on her side as well as possible on the narrow pew; she'd only been asleep for a few hours and her subconscious had no intention of waking up anytime soon if she could help it. The more time went on the more she wished this whole escapade was nothing more than a bad dream, and maybe if she stayed asleep long enough she'd be able to wake up from it. Though she wouldn't admit it to anybody, not even her own brother of all people, she also was getting sick and tired of being in this mess, more than once she had been tempted to scream at her brother that she wanted to go home, she wanted to see Connor again, she wanted to go back to New York, she too couldn't wait until this whole mess was over.

She started thinking about life back in New York. To live in or even to visit there was a lot in the city's favor and a lot against it; there were a lot of sights and attractions, a lot of places to go, always a way to get there, true to form anybody who visited the big apple never slept as they tried to see everything at once. But on the other hand the crime rate was unbelievable, a lot of the people were miserable excuses for human beings, the winter conditions were a crime against any form of humanity outside of the Eskimos. She'd lived there her whole life and even she could admit the place was _not_ all it was cracked up to be; but it was her home, and it was through Connor that she still _had_ a home there, and for that she was grateful. She hadn't been willing to admit it in the beginning but she liked Connor; even by New York's standards she found him a bit weird, when he'd invited her to stay move in with him she hadn't pegged him for a pervert, just a potential loon. Thinking about it now she supposed that living with Connor was the only reason she was even still alive, but it killed her to admit that she had become attached to another living being, it went against everything she believed in. Like a ton of bricks it hadn't hit her that she'd come to depend on Connor until the first time she needed him and he wasn't there.

* * *

><p>She'd been staying with him for a few months at the time, still coming and going as she pleased, and had spent the past couple of days with a few friends in the city. As she walked home that afternoon she felt a weight pressing on her chest like a two ton safe and she couldn't figure out what it was. That was why she had cut her visit short; the whole day felt like something was off, like the whole world was just waiting for the sky to fall or something, she didn't know what it was but something told her once she got back home and talked to Connor, the feeling would pass. The closer she came to his house the faster she walked, by the time she was in the vicinity of the front door she was running. She threw the door open and stormed into the house and called for Connor, but there was no answer.<p>

In a short while she had torn the whole house apart looking for Connor and there was no sign of the man anywhere. Richelle did not have a history of suffering from panic attacks, but she had a good idea she was damn close to one right now. Realistically she knew there was no reason for the anxiety, Connor had been gone before, he also had a life, it was one of the perks of being single in New York; but this time it was different because she needed him to be here. Her head was throbbing, her vision was blurry, she laughed, she was losing her mind, the walls were melting.

As she wandered through the rooms she found a large piece of paper on the table and saw it was a note from Connor explaining that he had left town on business and would be back in a couple of days. Richelle's migraine quickly spread to the bones in her face and around her eyes; she walked into the kitchen as if automatically, turned the knob for the front burner and set the letter on fire and discarded it in the sink to burn. She opened the liquor cabinet and found the strongest bottle of what Connor kept in the house and drank half of it in two gulps; then took the bottle with her as she wandered around the house as if in a trance, finally making it to Connor's room where she collapsed on the bed. She was tempted to throw the bottle of bourbon against the wall and smash it but all she had the strength left to do was roll over on her side and drop it on the nightstand. In a fit of exhaustion and misery she buried her head under the pillows and tried to burrow under the covers and possibly the whole bed entirely.

As it turned out, Connor had gone to visit with a friend down in Georgia for a couple of days but he had cut the trip short and caught a plane back to New York. He knew that Richelle would likely be gone another day or so and because of this he hadn't anticipated the sight he found when he got home. By the time he reached his house the sun was starting to go down, he was tired and just wanted to go to bed. Upon entering the house, he was not surprised to find it unlocked, but he didn't see anything right away that said anybody was there either, not until he reached his bedroom, and when he saw what was there, he froze in the doorway.

The orange and pink of the fading sunlight in the sky filled the room through the large windows, and amidst this he saw Richelle asleep in his bed, not on his side he noted, on the other side, the side that Brenda used to occupy. Connor had had his fair share over the centuries of waking up next to strange women, but to come home and find one in his bed, that was abnormal, and Richelle was as strange as they came. In the time she had been staying here she had not made it a habit of climbing into his bed, in fact as far as he knew this was the first, not exactly what he wanted to see when he stepped in the door but he was in no mood to kick her out either; he was too tired to bother and didn't see any harm in letting her stay for the night. He put his coat down and walked over to the bed, noting as he passed by that Richelle had fallen asleep in her clothes, tangled up in the sheets, her face half buried in the pillow. Apparently she'd been asleep for a while and she had slept hard, it sounded like a good idea to Connor too. He sat down on his side of the bed and brought his foot up to take his shoes off when he heard Richelle stir.

"Connor?" she said tiredly, vaguely. Connor turned and saw her eyes were hardly open and she didn't seem to be quite all there.

"Yeah it's me," he told her, "You been sleeping long?"

"I don't know," she tiredly groaned as she rubbed one eye, "What day is it?"

"Tuesday night," he answered.

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow," she said.

"I thought the same thing about you," he pointed out, "Are you okay?"

Richelle didn't know if it was just the fact that Connor was actually here now, or if it was a matter of the time that had passed since she got home, but it felt like whatever had been haunting her earlier was gone now, the weight was lifted and she was sure when she woke up in the morning and had the booze out of her system, that things would be back to normal. For this reason she declined telling Connor about what had happened earlier and she just nodded and said, "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Good," he said as he pulled back the covers on his side, "Now let's go to sleep."

"Alright," she replied as she hit her head against the pillows again.

However that idea was short lived because a few minutes later, Connor heard Richelle turn over in the bed and he heard her turn towards him and whisper, "Connor."

"What is it?" he asked.

Richelle pushed herself up on her hands and looked over at him and asked him, "Why did Brenda leave you?"

He hadn't seen that one coming. He grumbled to himself, then said, "One of those questions, eh? Alright," he turned over and sat up on his side of the bed so he could see her and he tried to figure out how to explain this. Brenda had been ancient history long before Richelle had even come into the picture, but all the same she had found out about the brief relationship he'd had with the policewoman; though Connor had never been very specific on the details, especially on how the whole thing went to hell and came crashing down.

And then the idea hit him how to explain it to Richelle. He turned to her and said, "You remember that new Batman movie we went to see a few months ago?"

"Yeah," Richelle nodded.

"You remember that Vicki Vale was _not_ in this one, but she was in the last one, and she found out what Batman's true identity was." Richelle tiredly nodded and Connor told her, "And by the second movie, she's not around anymore, why? Because it all just became too much for her to deal with, the knowledge of what the man she was involved with really was, she couldn't handle it and so she had to get out. You could say it was the same thing with Brenda. Finding out the man you're dating is a 480 year old who cannot die unless somebody cuts his head off, is not an easy thing to deal with."

"She watched you cut off the Kurgan's head, she was able to deal with that, she stayed with you after that," Richelle pointed out.

"I think it was a delayed case of shock for her," Connor explained, "Brenda was a nice woman, but after everything she was put through once she found out about me, I don't know that I blame her for leaving. True I thought once the Kurgan was dead that we could put the worst of it behind us, but I don't know. You know it doesn't matter how much time passes, or that what happens next is always worse than the generation before, mortals are always so…well, there's a lot that they just can't deal with, not quite like _us_. Maybe she was smart to get out when she did, maybe…"

He felt something pressing against his hand and his ribs and he looked down and saw that Richelle had leaned over towards his side and fallen asleep pressed against him. Connor couldn't be angry at her if he tried, he was too tired; he accepted his current position as a pillow and reached around Richelle and pulled the rest of her over to the other side of the bed. "Goodnight, kid."

* * *

><p>Richelle was jerked out of her memories and rudely awakened when she felt somebody jerking on her arm. Her eyes opened too fast to see things clearly but she was able to see that it was Kronos pulling her up and he told her, "Come on, we're getting out of here."<p>

It was dark again, Richelle could tell that much from looking at the windows, meaning that she'd slept all day. Just as well, she hadn't gone to sleep until just before the sun came up, and they'd been stuck in this damn church all day. At least now they could get moving again and find Richie and Methos soon, at least she hoped. She looked around at the room and didn't know if the sun had made any difference in the temperature during the day, but now that it was night again the drafty place was freezing cold once again; she picked up her jacket, put it on and followed Kronos out of the chapel.

"Where're we going?" she asked him.

Kronos never looked back to her as he answered, "We're going to find my brother and yours."

"How?" Richelle wanted to know.

Kronos stopped and turned back to her and Richelle stood her ground though she anticipated getting her teeth knocked out. He only answered, "We have our ways."

"I get the idea that no matter how I look at it, I'm not gonna like it," Richelle commented as she followed behind him.

She knew for a fact that she didn't like being hit in the face with the freezing night air as they stepped out of the church and got back in the streets. As dark as it was it could've been any time of the night though Richelle would guess it was at least 9 o' clock.

"So how do you know where to find Methos?" she asked.

"We already anticipated a plan incase this became necessary," Kronos answered.

Richelle matched every step he took but she was too busy watching him to notice that they had crossed into a dead end alley where nobody was around to see them. Kronos stopped beside a brick wall and had his back to Richelle, who didn't move and only watched him to see what he did next.

"There's a hospital about eight blocks from here, that's where Methos is going to be and that's where we're going to meet him," he explained.

"A hospital?" Richelle repeated, "Why a hospital?"

Kronos turned around and Richelle's eyes widened as she saw the large knife he had pulled out of his pocket; and when he walked towards her with the blade pointed at her, she suddenly got the feeling that this whole mess couldn't _possibly_ get any worse.

* * *

><p>Hospital traffic was always murder to get through in between the rushing ambulances and everybody else and his brother playing pedestrian polo in the parking lot trying to find a place to stop at. In fact Richelle noted that some idiot came very close to getting 15 points for hitting her and she had no doubt she would qualify as a birdie flying over the 50 foot mark. Kronos had a grip on her wrist so tight she half expected it to break off, but somehow he got the two of them out of the parking area and in past the electronic doors and into the very brightly lit entrance corridor and as they made their way to the front desk, everybody could see the bloodstains that covered one side of Richelle's face and part of her clothes.<p>

Any night was a busy one for this hospital and after they got their initial story out about the accident that Richelle was in, they were told that they would have to take a seat and wait on the doctors _after_ they got done with everyone else that had come in ahead of them. Richelle counted about 20 people sitting around the room with large bruises or cuts hastily wrapped up in bandages that were due for changing half an hour ago.

"Long wait," Richelle noted as they found a vacant bench in the room to sit down on.

"That's the idea," Kronos reminded her. He took a handkerchief out of an inside pocket in his jacket and handed it to Richelle, who used it to wipe off the rest of his blood that hadn't had time to finish drying yet. She still hadn't decided who the craziest one was in this family; a few weeks ago she saw Caspian slash open his wrist to bloody up a note sent to Duncan under the guise of it being she and Richie's blood, and tonight, just a few minutes ago she watched as Kronos cut the fingers on his left hand wide open and smeared the blood on her face and clothes.

"Well you found the perfect place for it," Richelle said as she laid down on the other side of the bench, "The president could get shot in the head, _he'd_ have to take a number. How long do you think it'll be for your brother to find this place?"

"He knows it just fine," Kronos told her, "He should be here within the hour."

"That's fine with me," Richelle replied, "I want to get out of this butcher shop," she scoffed, "Now there's irony, trading one slaughterhouse for another."

Right after she'd woken up it had hit her whole body that she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, and she knew that now she'd be waiting until they got back to the house. For the time being she decided to go back to sleep, hoping it would ward off the hunger until they could get out of the hospital anyway. She closed her eyes, leaned back and laid her head on Kronos' knee, knowing that he couldn't do much about it without blowing their cover and until Methos and Richie showed up, that wasn't an option. Within a few minutes she was asleep despite all the typical noises of the hospital blaring loud enough to wake the dead.

It _was_ about an hour before Kronos finally felt Methos' quickening approaching; he turned and saw the doors open and Methos entered the hospital with Richie right behind him, looking ready to hit the ceiling at a moment's notice. Methos spotted Kronos and he and Richie went over to where they were and Richie knelt down beside Richelle and shook her to wake her up, worried that they were already too late. Richelle opened her eyes and saw her brother hovering beside her and she smiled, "Richie!" She threw her arms around him and loosely clung to him, he on the other hand had a much tighter grip on her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," she tiredly replied as she let go of him, "I'm fine, help me up."

"So," Methos said to Kronos, "Do I want to know where _you_ spent last night?"

"No," Kronos answered.

"Fine, let's get out of here," he said.

They did, and once they got into the car and got the hell out of there, Methos explained that they'd gotten back to the house and Silas and Caspian were both gone, presumably they'd be back in the morning but why they left in the first place he didn't know. During the drive back Methos looked in the rear view mirror and saw that the twins had fallen asleep and were practically lying on top of each other.

When they finally got back to the house, they woke Richie and his sister up and they got out of the car and were the first ones inside; a couple minutes later when Methos and Kronos also came in, they found that the twins had gotten as far as the couch in the living room before collapsing for the night. Richelle had fallen asleep sprawled out on the couch and Richie was in a less fortunate position of kneeling beside her with his arms folded under his head and those being the only parts of him actually on the couch as he slept, for the rest of it he was sitting on his knees and hunched over. Methos went to wake them both up so they could go upstairs to their room to sleep, but Kronos grabbed him back and told him, "Never mind them, we'll let them stay here for the night, _we'll_ go upstairs to bed."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Methos said as he followed Kronos back to the front hall, "You wouldn't believe the day and night I had."

* * *

><p>Richie woke up with a stiff neck and sore back and he realized why when he saw he'd been hunched over on the corner of the couch; now that he was awake and alert, he looked around the room and saw the lights were still on, but it was dark outside. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was going on 2 in the morning, what a night, straight from hell. Speaking of which, he turned back and saw his sister asleep on the couch and let out a heavy sigh of relief. Then something else occurred to him and he put his hands on Richelle and shook her to wake her up again.<p>

"What is it?" she asked tiredly.

"Wake up, Richelle," he told her.

She rubbed one eye so she could open it and she asked him, "What is it, Richie?"

He reached into his pocket and took out her pill bottle and told her, "I got your pills, I think you should take them."

Richelle groaned and turned over on her side and said half coherently, "Oh Richie, I don't want to take those things."

"I know you don't," he told her, "But I want you to, I don't want you getting sick again."

Richelle half closed her eyes and looked up at him, maybe Connor was right. "Alright," she said as she slowly sat up, "Alright if it'll make you happy, I will." She took the bottle and said, "I need something to eat first or else they'll make me puke."

They went into the kitchen and dug around in the fridge and found something to heat up for a very late dinner, and as a few minutes passed and the gravity of the last couple days fully sank in, the twins turned to each other and grabbed each other tightly. For a while each had seriously started to believe that they might not see the other again, and this was getting to be too much for them to take.

"I want to go home, sis," Richie told her.

"I do too, Richie," she replied, "I want to go home, I want to see Connor again, I want to get the hell out of here too. But what can we do? Until we know that Horton is dead and his men are out of commission, we can't go back."

"So how the hell do we find this guy Horton?" Richie asked.

* * *

><p>"You're counting on the Hunters coming to this house, that's why we came here in the first place, right?" Richelle asked Methos the next morning.<p>

"Something like that," Methos answered.

"But when?" Richie asked, "Are they going to be here anytime soon or are we going to be here until next year?"

"With any luck they should be coming here soon," Methos told them, "They know we're here, and as far as they know, we don't know that anybody else knows it, so any time they want to come out here and try to kill us, they can be our guest."

"Well I wish they'd hurry the hell up so we can get out of here," Richelle said, "We're going into December, I want to get out of this subzero zone and hit the tropics soon. Though that reminds me, _what_ happened to Thing 1 and Thing 2?"

"They'll be around soon," Kronos answered as he entered the room, "They have to, they know if they didn't we'd come looking for them."

"And nobody wants that," Richie agreed.

Richelle slipped out of the room and returned to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and took out a glass full of a concoction she'd been working on that morning. The liquid in the glass was blood red and thick, Richelle took a swig of it and, upon tasting it, spit it out into the sink and turned on the faucet to wash it down; as it was the sink looked like somebody had been massacred in it. She heard the front door open and she went to see who was here, although she had a good idea; and she was right, stepping into the dining room she saw that Silas and Caspian were back from wherever the hell they had gone.

"Well look who's here," she said sarcastically as she went over to them, "Cousin Kevin," she gestured to Silas, and then turning to Caspian she added in a gruff voice, "And mean Uncle Ernie!"

Caspian lunged at her but she jumped back at just the right time and got away from him, and into the perfect position to be, which was hiding behind Kronos.

"Well?" Kronos asked him.

Caspian let go of _this_ fight and answered, "We're about to cross the threshold into a war with those people, last night the new Watcher headquarters was blown up, five people were inside and they were killed on impact."

"Your work?" Richelle inquired.

"No."

She thought that made sense, their battle so far had only been with the Hunters, and though the line between they and the Watchers seemed to be a thin one, she couldn't see the logic in getting two enemies for the price of one.

"Who then?" Richie wanted to know.

Methos answered, "A Hunter who wants the Watchers to think it's one of the Immortals, or several of them."

"More of Horton's work I assume?" Richelle asked.

"Could be," Methos answered, "Nobody else looks too likely right now."

"This is getting serious," she noted.

"You don't know the half of it," he remarked, "We've been trying to avoid an all-out war with the Watchers but this just might push it over the edge and start the drum beating."

"And we just wait and hope these guys show up here?" Richie asked.

"For the moment there's not much more we _can_ do," Methos told him.

"I'm getting sick of this," Richie murmured to his sister.

"Me too," she agreed.

* * *

><p>The next couple of days passed slowly and agonizingly, every minute the twins expected for a group of Hunters to smash in the windows and kill them all, but nobody came. Outside it was obvious that winter was on the way; the temperature had dropped down to the 50s and the clouds came in and stayed, the sun never shone and it was having quite an effect on Richie and his sister. Methos noticed how now they were practically inseparable from one another and their overall demeanors and appearances had changed drastically; they had been kept in the house for the better part of a month but it was only now he was seeing them grow steadily paler than they had ever been. Another thing he noticed was since they met up at the hospital, Richelle's typical language skills seemed to have faded away; lately she hardly said a word to anybody except for Richie, and aside from an occasional crack at Caspian or Silas she was as silent as a tomb, it was something he hadn't seen before and it scared him. He didn't say much to Kronos because he knew there wasn't anything they could do about it at the present time but he had a sickening feeling that if they didn't get the kids out of here soon, neither of them would survive.<p>

By the third day Richie and Richelle were both tempted to actually start climbing the walls; they'd thought they could adapt from the last house to this one with no problem but knowing that they were even further from civilization and from going home was finally starting to catch up with them. Even though from a realistic standpoint they knew this had to come to an end soon, they had already spent so much time away from everyone and everything that they knew that both were starting to question if they'd ever see their homes again.

"Well, you got any plans for today?" Richelle asked Richie as they sat on the couch and looked at each other.

Richie put his feet up on the coffee table and gazed up at the ceiling as he tried to think.

"We could try calling the shop again," he suggested, "Maybe Connor would be there."

"Nah," Richelle shook her head, "That's getting old."

"Okay," he thought again, "We could find George and Lenny and annoy the hell out of them."

"That's even older," Richelle told him.

"Alright then," he said to her, "You think of something."

"Alright," she said, and reached into her pocket and pulled out a small notebook and flipped through it, "Let's see if there's something here we could do…put salt in their beds," she shook her head, "I did that one already." She turned to another page and read, "Yell fire…" she seemed to consider it for a minute before flipping the page and telling Richie, "No good, I did that one already too. What time is it?"

"Five o' clock," he answered.

"Alright," she said as she pushed herself up from the couch, "I'm going to see how dinner's coming."

Crossing through the living room to the kitchen, Richelle almost collided with Caspian who was just exiting the kitchen. She growled at him and commented as she stepped into the kitchen and over to the stove where four large pots full of boiling water were kept on high burners she commented to Silas, "A spiritualist told me once that I'd spend my last remaining days in the company of idiots, who knew that she'd actually be right?"

She heard a crashing noise from another part of the house but something told her that it wasn't routine and she added, "Something tells me we're about to have a visitor." She stepped over to the other side of the stove and knocked the two gallon pots on the front burners over and boiling water splattered all over the floor right in front of the doorway; a split second later two men that Richelle didn't recognize came charging in, and the desired effect was had when they slipped on the wet floor and fell on their backs.

"That's two down," Richelle said, realizing that they were under siege now.

Silas grabbed the two men and quickly subdued them and Richelle turned and knocked the knife rack off the wall and behind the stove. From the front of the house it sounded like the place was being torn apart and she squeezed through the doorway to see what was going on. Apparently a pack of Hunters had smashed in through the windows and busted in the front door; fortunately their arrival had been anticipated, even if it had been for three days before now. Kronos and Methos had already knocked two of them out, or killed them, Richelle couldn't tell what, and were working on two others. Richie had managed to snag one as well and was, it seemed, having a good time knocking the crap out of him. The intruders' weapons lay scattered on the floor, loaded but unfired as of yet, Richelle knew the smart thing to do would be to gather them up but she didn't waste her time on it; instead she dove behind the couch and picked up what she was looking for, the bowling ball she'd brought from the other house and she came up behind Richie and the man he was fighting with and when they turned just right, Richelle bashed the man in the head with the bowling ball. He let out a loud, pained groan and then succumbed to unconsciousness and slipped through Richie's arms and hit the floor.

In the meantime it was obvious that Methos and Kronos were just messing with the Hunters that they'd gotten a hold of because instead of outright killing them, they knocked them around the room a bit until their heads were putting holes in the wall's plastering before ultimately knocking the men out. However that didn't seem to matter because a few seconds later gunfire ripped through the living room and bullets lodged into the furniture and the walls; at first they couldn't tell where the shots were coming from but Methos found out they were coming from outside the window and he went over to it and jumped out and landed on two of the men who were shooting at them. Richie and his sister both turned at just the right second to see somebody disappear around the corner leading to the next room, they ran after the man and caught another one; Richie jerked the man forward by the collar of his jacket and clocked him, Richelle then grabbed a handful of the man's hair in one hand and used it to pull him forward so she could knock him square in the jaw and send him reeling back.

Two more men tackled them and they felt themselves falling to the ground before it actually dawned on them that they'd been ambushed; they hit the floor with a pronounced thud and felt somebody on top of them, jerking their wrists tightly behind their backs until they about snapped. Richie was the first one to feel the weight slide off of him before he'd actually heard the punch or the Hunter groaning as he fell off, and then Richelle felt her captor fall off of her as well and they turned over and saw Caspian had one of them in a choke hold and was just about to snap his neck. Richelle grabbed one of the chairs from the dining room table and used it to beat the other man over the head with to make sure he stayed down; and Richie charged another one he saw starting to come through the doorway. He felt a gun pressing against his ribs but right now the idea of getting shot was the furthest thought from his mind. He kept a death grip on the man's jacket and ran forward so the man was backed up to the wall and then Richie slammed him against it as hard as he could. He heard the man's skull crack, let go of him and watched the Hunter slide down against the wall into a crumpled mass on the floor. He had the presence of mind, despite everything that was going on around them, to turn to Caspian and ask, "Where the hell are they all coming from?"

He'd barely gotten the last word out when another one announced his arrival with a machine gun blast; Richie felt himself pressed hard against the wall and he looked down to see if he was bleeding. He didn't even have time to see anything other than a black blur that rushed past him, but however was _not_ fast enough to avoid being clotheslined by Silas as he came into the room from the kitchen.

For the moment the fight seemed to be over, all the Hunters were knocked on the floor and not moving. Richelle stepped over the bodies and went into the kitchen to get a drink, now things were starting to pick up so it was actually lively around there but it was still an exhausting experience where she was concerned. She took a pitcher full of a blood red liquid out of the fridge and poured a glass, and had just started to drink it when the kitchen door burst open and another Hunter barged in. Richelle, taken by surprise, spit her drink out and directly into the man's face, momentarily blinding him and making him look like he already came from a bloodbath. Richelle broke her glass over his head and kicked him down, but a second man came in the doorway and lunged at her, so she threw the remaining contents from the pitcher into his face and likewise beat him over the head with the pitcher and broke it as well. But as he fell down, the first one came behind Richelle and grabbed her.

* * *

><p>Methos and Kronos had exited through the living room window and made a quick search of the grounds and found several more Hunters who were lying in waiting, but they were a problem quickly removed. When they returned to the house, Kronos commented to Methos, "Well so far your plan's working, but don't let it go to your head."<p>

"Where did they all come from?" Richie asked.

"Hunters are like cockroaches," Methos told him, "Step on one and you'll find a dozen more where they came from. The fact that mortals outnumber Immortals by about 10,000 to one doesn't help matters any."

"And these guys all started in the Watchers?" Richie asked.

"More or less."

"How many of them are there?" Richie wanted to know.

"Too damn many," Kronos answered.

The kitchen door swung open and Richelle stepped out holding her arms out stiffly and her clothes were covered in blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" Richie exclaimed.

"Don't worry," she said, "I just had a little trouble with two more of the men in black in the kitchen."

"That their blood?" Kronos inquired.

"No, they got away," Richelle answered.

"What!?" In two steps Kronos strode over to her and practically grabbed her by the throat, "You _let_ them escape?"

"Yes," Richelle said as she took a step back from him, "You got most of them but you had to know _some_ would get away, _I_ knew they would…don't worry though, they'll be easy to find among their own people."

"And how do you figure that?" Methos asked.

"Because," Richelle slowly explained, "I figured if they _did_ come here, we _would_ be outnumbered and it wouldn't be a bad idea to let a couple go free, but mark them before they left so they could be found. I was experimenting with a lot of red food dye, trying to enhance the effect of sticking to the skin regardless of any attempts to wash it off. I had a pitcher full of the stuff ready to use, and I threw it in both of their faces, you should've seen it, blood red paste hitting them smack in the kisser, and dripping all the way down their clothes. Now they can throw those clothes away and replace them, but they are _stuck_ with those faces, meaning they have to wear the dye until it eventually wears out, and that's going to take a few days."

"An interesting idea, but are you sure it'll work?" Methos asked.

Richelle nodded and rolled up the sleeve on her shirt, revealing a large blood red patch on her shoulder, "I tried it on myself three days ago, and I've showered four times since then."

"What does it prove, though?" Caspian wanted to know.

"Well it makes sense to me," Methos said, "It is the Hunters that came here tonight, _not_ the genuine Watchers, but they hide within the Watchers, so, Adam Pierson goes to work tomorrow, takes note of who is absent and pays them a visit and sees if anybody suddenly bears a striking resemblance to an overripe tomato. It's simple, _juvenile_, but brilliant."

"Of course it's juvenile," Richelle told him, "Why do you think the cops came up with the same concept for marked money to use in bank robberies?"

Methos felt somebody poking him in the back and he turned to see what it was Richie wanted. The boy pointed at the unconscious men on the floor and asked, "What happens with them now?"

"My guess," Richelle said, "Another trip out to the cemetery is in order."


	19. Chapter 19

Author's note: Sorry for the long delay, writer's block has been a pain to get over, but I plan to have this story finished soon now. Hope everybody who even remembers it enjoys the new chapter.

Richie was still not at a point that he was comfortable with looking at dead bodies, permanently or even just temporarily. But he knew that the Hunters who had been killed at the house had suffered permanent deaths, and now they were being hauled out to the cemetery to be buried in a vacant spot and forgotten in a mass grave. Although he knew it was necessary he still couldn't convince himself that it was right, but Richelle had hit the nail on the head, what other choice did they have? They rode out to the cemetery with the Immortals and the corpses in tow, he didn't know why, they hadn't been called upon to help with the burials. Maybe it was just so Methos and the others knew that he and his sister were still around and not trying to make a break for it now, he couldn't say the idea hadn't occurred to him, and it was tempting, but he knew he just couldn't go through with it.

While the Immortals were seeing to their current pest problem, Richie wandered off and around the cemetery, looking at some of the tombstones but not really seeing anything in particular. He noticed that Richelle had likewise strayed off somewhere else within the confines of the cemetery gates, but he didn't bother going after her; after all the time that the two of them had been forced to stay together in the past month, he felt like being alone for a change.

He walked aimlessly through the cemetery, not really thinking about anything but all the while he had a feeling that there was something in particular resting on his mind just waiting for him to bring to light. He glanced around at the cemetery and all the graves again, and he realized that he was humming to himself; it took him a few seconds to realize that he was humming that damn gravedigger song that Richelle had been on his back for so long to remember. When he noticed that he turned to see his sister but she was too far away from him to hear him; he turned around again and caught something in the corner of his eye.

Staring out into the darkness, Richie saw a figure in the shadows walking up from the entrance gate. He turned back to where Methos and his brothers were and did a headcount: one, two, three, four, they were all there, so who the hell was that coming up on them now? He had a bad feeling that he already knew the answer. Realizing that any sudden movements, or trying to call out to anybody would only let this intruder know somebody was on to him, Richie did the only other thing he could do, he ducked down behind a large stone and watched the shadows pass by in the moonlight covering the ground. When the shadow passed by him, he saw the man from the back and couldn't tell who it was, but he had a good idea _what_ the man was. Sure there was a chance that he could be wrong, but he didn't think he was and he was willing to take that chance. He rose up and charged the man and tackled him to the ground.

The man underneath Richie yelped as he was knocked to the ground and tried to throw Richie off of him; but he stayed on the man's back and clamped his hand over the guy's mouth so he couldn't scream. The man threw his elbow back and it just managed to hit Richie and knock the wind out of him, and he found himself on the ground instead, with a strong pair of hands wrapping around his throat. Richie tried prying the man's hands off his neck but without success, so he brought his feet up and kicked the man and that did the trick. However the next thing Richie heard was an explosion of gunfire so he fell back against the cold, hard ground so he didn't get hit. He didn't know who else was there or who was shooting at whom, but he did know that things were just about to get worse.

Richelle hadn't heard the struggle but she _did_ hear the gunfire and she looked around in the night to see who was shooting or where it was coming from. She could see a couple of figures in the shadows but neither of them seemed to be the one responsible; all the same she picked the target nearest her and ambushed it. Reaching from behind, she grabbed the man's neck and choked him; there was a struggle and during it the man managed to turn halfway around so he was facing her, and even though it was dark, Richelle was able to make out the man's facial features and a sinister grin formed on her face.

"Well…Mr. Horton, so nice of you to join us, finally," she told him.

All that came out of him was a series of muffled choking sounds as Horton tried to break away from her grasp. Richelle looked around quickly to see if there was anybody close by, and she didn't see anyone, but she did see something that would come in handy. Maintaining her deadly hold on Horton's throat, she forced him to step back, until he had backed up to a fresh grave.

"Well Horton, it was a pretty good plan," she told him, "You might have even managed to get away with it…but it seems to me you would've done well to remember how the end of that song goes. 'No Mr. GD you won't tell, and just to make sure that you keep it to yourself, I've started digging holes my friend and this one here's for you'!" And with that she pushed him back and James Horton screamed as he lost his footing and fell back into the open grave.

Richelle grabbed the shovel that had been left behind in the mound of dirt and started throwing it back into the hole. Horton was screaming at her and tried to climb out, but she hit him in the head with the shovel and watched him fall back in. It hadn't been hard enough to kill him but she figured she should be able to get the hole filled up part of the way before he gave her anymore trouble. From somewhere else off in the cemetery she heard gunfire again, so she crouched down to avoid being hit as she worked, and suddenly she thought she had a good idea of what it was like being in the trenches in World War I.

"Richelle!"

It was Richie calling her. She didn't turn around and kept her mind on her work, though she called out for him to hear, "Over here!"

Richie came running over to her but dropped when another series of shots rang out. He fell on the ground right beside her and he asked, "Sis, you okay?"

"I'm alright," she answered, and gestured to the man in the grave, "Richie, I'd like you to meet the man of the hour, James Horton."

Richie looked down into the hole and had a look of disbelief on his face, "_That_ is Horton?"

"In the flesh," she answered, "Give me a hand filling up the hole and before too long it should just be in the bones."

Richie found a second shovel in the pile of dirt and started tossing the soil into the grave alongside her. "What the hell do you think's going on out there?"

"I don't know," Richelle told him, "I only know it's a good thing the only people we came here with _can_ take a bullet and keep going."

Over the noise of the shovels scraping the ground and the dirt flying through the air and noisily hitting the inside of the grave, neither one of them had heard somebody sneaking up on them, and so they had no way of protecting themselves as they were attacked from behind.

* * *

><p>When Richie opened his eyes the first thing he realized was that he was freezing cold, the next thing he noticed was it was still night, and the third thing he realized was he was looking straight up at the stars and realized that meant he was lying on the ground of the cemetery. As he struggled to pull himself up and ignore the killer headache he was currently experiencing, he saw his sister laying similarly positioned on the ground a few feet away from him.<p>

"Richelle, you okay?" he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the sudden sound of his voice and mumbled, "Stop shouting."

"What happened?" Richie asked.

Richelle crawled along the ground over to the grave and noticed that its occupant was now absent, "I don't know, but our corpse got away."

They heard somebody calling them and after a few seconds Richelle was able to identify the voice as Methos' and she called back, "We're over here!" then she fell against the ground and rolled onto her side.

They heard footsteps on the hard ground approaching them and heard Methos ask, "What the hell happened to you?"

Richelle cocked her head to the side so she could speak without getting a mouthful of dirt as she weakly answered, "Somebody interrupted us. We had Horton, but he got away."

"What?" A pair of hands grabbed her and roughly jerked her to her feet and Methos asked her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Richelle said as her body swayed off to one side and then regained its balance, she paused as she felt her front teeth, that were pounding in time with the back of her skull, "He was here, we were burying him, but somebody jumped us and he disappeared."

Her equilibrium took a nose dive and she fell on the ground, Methos went over to Richie and helped him up and asked, "Care to translate that?"

Richie rubbed the back of his head and replied, "By the time I got here she already had him in that hole in the ground and was tossing the dirt on him."

"What happened?" Richelle asked Methos.

"The Hunters again, what else?" he responded.

"Are they dead?" she asked.

"Most of them," Methos said, then shook his head as he added, "But Horton wasn't one of them."

"Dammit," Richelle kicked a rock by her foot, "Now what do we do?"

"We have no choice," he told her, "We go home for the night and wait for the next move."

"This is starting to remind me of a _bad_ chess game," Richelle commented, "Where are the others?"

"We had to add a few more feet to the grave," Methos answered.

"Figures," she said.

* * *

><p>"We're really going to <em>stay<em> in this place after what happened here tonight?" Richie asked when they returned to the house.

"Well, they know where the target is, they hit it once already," his sister told him, "I guess it only makes sense. The sooner they come back here to try and finish what their friends started, the sooner we can kill them and go home."

Richie looked at the clock on the wall, it was going on 2 in the morning and everybody was still up; he personally was starting to get a good idea of what it felt like to be a zombie, he was getting to the point he didn't care what happened, he just wanted to get the hell out of here and away from these sideshow freaks. He knew that his sister felt the same way, but he also knew that they each had different things to go back to; she had Connor and New York, he had Mac and Tessa and the antique shop.

They were in the kitchen, he'd wanted to put some distance between the two of them and the four Immortals after having to ride back to the house with them. He turned back towards his sister and saw her about to drink something blood red in a glass that looked like it was foaming.

"_What_ are you doing?" he asked her.

Richelle looked at him and raised a finger to her lips with a mischievous smirk and said, "Be quiet, I'm trying a new experiment."

"Well what is it for?" Richie asked.

"You'll see," she said, "I just hope this stuff doesn't make me puke."

Richie stood there and watched in awe as his sister drank the concoction, though he noticed that she didn't swallow it, instead she stored as much of the stuff in her cheeks as was possible and then proceeded to march out of the kitchen. As she entered the living room where Methos and his brothers were, she sputtered like an outboard motor about to die, and when they turned to see what the noise was, her whole body went into convulsions and foamy blood and black blood clots poured out of her mouth and she fell to the floor. Methos rushed over to her to see what was the matter, when she rolled her eyes back and grinned at him, then pulled herself up, looked to her brother and said, "You see, Richie? Now _that_ is what you want to do if the airplane you're on ever gets hijacked, the terrorists will _definitely_ let you off for that one, they'd think you had TB and rabies all rolled into one."

"Very funny," Methos dryly remarked.

"Hey, you're over 5000 years old and _you_ bought it," Richelle told him, then pointed to the others and said, "And I think I managed to knock a few years out of the monkey trio as well."

"Not bad for an amateur," Methos said flatly, "Incidentally _what_ was that?"

"Red food dye, Alka-Seltzer and mashed black cherries," Richelle answered, "And you should be glad that's _all_ that came up, that stuff tastes _nasty_."

"And exactly what _was_ the idea behind that?" he demanded to know.

"Just a little experiment," she said, "If it fooled you then it'll have to mystify Horton if he tries coming here."

"And what makes you so certain that he will?" Methos asked her.

"He has to," Richelle answered, "He's after the Methuselah stone, he knows you have it, that's why those other men came here tonight, to kill you and find the rock, now they're dead, meaning Horton's going to have to do this end of the dirty work for himself, something I doubt he'll have too many qualms about doing."

Methos didn't say anything for a minute, he looked to his brothers one by one, and whatever was going through his mind seemed to be coursing through theirs as well. He turned back to the twins and said, "I think you're probably right."

Richelle turned to her brother with a smug look on her face and she said to him, "I told you."

"_However_," Methos told her, "If he _is_ going to come here, I can assure you is _isn't_ going to be tonight after what's already happened. Even he's not _that_ stupid."

"No," Kronos said by way of agreement, and elaborated, "That kind of stupidity would be more MacLeod's line of specialty."

"Speaking of which," Richelle said as she went over to the phone and picked up the receiver, "When do we call the stupid haggis again?"

"No," Methos told her as he grabbed the phone away from her and slammed it down, "Now that we're this close to the end, we're not contacting MacLeod. We've got one more trick up our sleeve; tomorrow night we're going to round up the rest of the Hunters and finish them all off at once."

"A holocaust of Hunters, I like it," Richelle said, "But will it work?"

"His plans always do," Kronos answered.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Methos was making the rounds before he went to bed; checking every window to make sure nobody was about to ambush them. Finding nothing, he went up the stairs and before turning in to his own room decided to check on Richie and his sister. Peering into the bedroom he saw one twin with their back to him, and the other had her eyes still open and was looking at him.<p>

"What's wrong?" he asked as he walked over to the bed, "Can't sleep?"

Richelle pushed herself up on her elbows and said to him in a tired, winding down voice, "Richie's right, this crap's gone on too long, I don't care if it is a damn war, I want to get out of here, I want to go home, I want to see Connor again, I want to go back to where I'm wanted…back to New York."

Methos was nothing if not sympathetic, he hadn't planned for this to carry on as long as it had; he didn't disagree, they _had_ been there too long, it was time to pull the plug.

"After tomorrow night," he told her, "The Hunters will be dead, Horton will be dead, then you and your brother can go home."

"Richie doesn't think you're going to actually let us go," Richelle said, "Because we can identify you, and your brothers, and this place."

He looked at her with a hint of a Cheshire cat smile and asked, "And what do you think?"

She looked him dead in the eye and answered, "I've been here too long to think we're _not_ going back."

He smiled at her and said, "And you'd be right. After tomorrow, this is all going to be over and you two will be free to go."

"Good," she replied sharply.

She lay back against the pillow and watched Methos leave the room, once the door was closed, Richie turned over and sat up and looked at her.

"You still think they'll try keeping us here?" she asked him.

"I don't care _what_ they try, tomorrow night we are _out_ of here, one way or another," Richie told her.

Richelle nodded and said, "Have to admit, it'll almost be nice to see the stupid haggis again." She turned on her side so she was curled against him and started to fall asleep, "Goodnight, Richie."

Richie slipped an arm around her back and held her close to him and he told her, "Goodnight, sis…don't worry, I'll get us out of here no matter _what_ happens tomorrow."

* * *

><p>The next day it was cold and gray again as usual. Richie and his sister had been anxious from the moment they got up, and they both felt like they were walking on the razor's edge. To make things worse, Methos and Kronos weren't anywhere to be found, but they knew the old Immortals were somewhere in the house; no doubt just making sure everything was ready for that night. They'd already had it explained to them how last night during the fight in the cemetery, they had manage to plant a bug on one of the cars the Hunters made their getaway in, and from there they had found out the car was parked outside of one of the Hunters' remaining hideouts. And based on the other traffic that was already there, it was a safe bet that most or all of the remaining members in the vicinity were holding up there until further notice.<p>

Richie couldn't stop looking at the clock, every few seconds he'd turn around and look at it again as if he was counting the minutes until night came, and when the whole war would be over, hopefully, and they could get out of there and away from these crazy people. Richelle decided to find out where the Immortals were, so she broke away from Richie shortly after breakfast and wandered through the house, grumbling loud enough for people in Los Angeles to hear, figuring she could draw somebody out with her griping, "What the hell is the matter with this place? Don't the sun _ever_ come out around here in the winter? Boy how high must the suicide rate get in this town until the spring thaw?" She climbed up the stairs, down the hallway, turned into one of the rooms on the right side and walked into the middle of a discussion between Caspian and Silas.

"Oh great," Richelle said as they stopped talking and looked to her, "The Hunch Bunch again, and _what_," she went over to Caspian, "Is going on now, Dunderbeck?"

But he ignored her, except to shove her away, and he and Silas resumed talking.

"They may be idiots but they're not stupid," Silas told Caspian, "They'll be expecting us and they _know_ how to stop us."

"Only temporarily," Caspian replied.

"I _know_ that," Silas remarked, "But for however long we're down, that gives them plenty of time to make it permanent. You don't think they're not going to be using everything they can think of to stop us tonight?"

"Then the answer is in the question, they're watching for us, so somebody else goes in first," Caspian said.

"Who?" Silas asked.

Caspian looked up and craned his head around to look back at Richelle, and he got a more disturbing than usual look on his face. Silas also looked towards her and it seemed that he was thinking whatever the same thing was that Caspian was thinking. Caspian turned back towards Silas and told him, "I've got an idea."

"Uh-oh," Richelle said sarcastically, noting the odd way both men were looking at her, "And already I've got an idea I'm not going to like this. What is it?"

* * *

><p>Kronos watched as Methos paced back and forth across the room as he went over everything that they would be taking with them that night, and he commented, "Keep it up, Brother, you'll wear a hole in the floor."<p>

"Oh be quiet," Methos told him.

Kronos laughed and said, "You've already went over this stuff ten times since last night, exactly _what_ are you hoping to find this time that you missed before?"

"Nothing," Methos replied, "I just want to make sure that we have everything, that nothing goes wrong tonight."

"What could _possibly_ go wrong?" Kronos asked.

Methos glared at him through the corner of one eye and responded, "Famous last words."

"At least after tonight we'll be rid of those two," Kronos said.

Methos nodded, "But you know, I almost think I'll miss them."

"Don't start," Kronos warned him.

Methos shrugged innocently and said, "I've kind of gotten used to having them here."

"That is the same thing you said last year when you brought that _dog_ home," Kronos reminded him.

"Well…" Methos turned away from him and grumbled under his breath, "He was better company to have around than Caspian, I think smarter too."

Kronos laughed, "Same old Methos."

Methos gave him a coy look and said, "It's not my fault that _your_ brother has an IQ comparable to rodents."

"Oh sure," Kronos replied cynically, "He blows up the Watcher headquarters and he's your brother, he eats rats and suddenly he's _my_ brother."

"Speaking of which," Methos brought up, "Does he have those bombs ready to go tonight?"

Kronos nodded, "Yes, he's already explained what's going to happen, everything will be timed perfectly, all you have to do is set the time."

"Good," Methos said.

Their conversation was brought to a sudden dead end when they heard somebody screaming from downstairs and they realized it was Richie.

"What now?" Kronos asked dryly as they ran out of the room and down the stairs.

They followed the sound of the boy's yelling and came to a skidding halt in the doorway to the living room, where they saw Richie with his back to them, as he asked in a somewhat disgusted tone, "_What_ the hell did you do to my sister?"

Methos stepped into the room and past Richie and stopped in his tracks, as did Kronos right behind him, when they saw what Richie saw.

Standing on the other side of the room were Silas and Caspian, and in between them was Richelle, dressed all in black, her clothes an almost exact replica of what Kronos was wearing because they were a spare set of his clothes, and her red hair which had been big and curly just like her brother's, had now been chopped off and stood on the top of her head in tiny spikes. She went over to Kronos and as he looked her up and down, she did the same with him, and she said to him in a sarcastic tone, "Well I don't know about you, but I'm very disappointed."

Methos didn't have to look far to figure out who had been the brains behind this and he immediately turned towards Caspian and asked him, "What did you do?"

Richie went over to his sister and looked at her in utter disbelief; he brought one hand up and touched her cheek, as if he was making sure that she was still in there. She smiled at her brother and explained to all of them, "In the movies this is what is called a body double, a person of _roughly_ same size and build, in the same clothes, the same general appearance from either afar or from behind, takes the place of the real star and nobody is the wiser." She turned to Methos and told him, "You're right, it _was_ Caspian's idea, he figured this way, Kronos will appear to be in two places at once, and that way the Hunters won't know who the real one is until it's too late."

Richie didn't see what his sister seemed so enthusiastic about and he told her, "All that fruitcake's doing is getting you set up to be killed, if they see you they're going to shoot you."

"Way ahead of you on that one, Richie," Richelle told him, and lifted up her shirt, "The little monkey _does_ have a few working brain cells, see?" and showed the bullet proof vest that she was wearing underneath.

"I was wondering _where_ you got the extra 20 pounds to make it look convincing," Methos commented.

"Shut up," Kronos said as he elbowed Methos sharply in the ribs.

"Do you _really_ think this is going to work?" Richie asked.

"Well it can't hurt any," Richelle told him, "Mind games might work on Mac, but not the Hunters, so we're just going to have to screw with them a little."

* * *

><p>When Richie had a chance to get his sister alone during the afternoon, he acted on it and pulled her into Kronos' bedroom which was currently empty, and he told her, "I don't like this."<p>

"You think I do?" Richelle asked, "I didn't have any say in this either, one minute old dragon puss says he's got an idea, and the next thing I know the fat guy's holding me down while Mohawk scalps me."

"But you're still going through with this?" he asked her.

She didn't answer him at first, then she slowly nodded and said, "Yeah…I think it's the right thing to do. Look, Richie, I'm expendable, we always knew that, I always knew it, if I die tonight then it's not going to be any big deal, but we're taking a chance on my coming out of this alive, that's why I've got this," she pounded the vest under her shirt, "It's a chance we have to take, I'm with you, I'm tired of this crap and I want to go home _but_ I want this mess over with once and for all. It's bad enough Connor and Mac always have other Immortals coming for them but we don't need the trouble of mortals coming to kill them _and_ us as well."

"Aren't you scared?" Richie asked her.

Richelle glanced down at the floor for a second, then looked her brother in the eyes and answered bluntly, "Terrified. But a soldier's willing to die for what he stands for, and if you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything, right?"

Richie looked at her and it was obvious he was trying not to let on how worried he was, but they both knew he was failing. Richie truly believed that if they went through with this crazy plan, that his sister might die that night, and he wasn't willing to let that happen but he also knew there wasn't much he could do about it. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, he pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her and said, his voice starting to break, "I love you, sis."

Richelle put her arms around her brother and hugged him tight, then she pulled back and said, "Alright, Thelma, cool your heels, we ain't driving off the edge of the Grand Canyon yet. Now, let's go find those four idiots and get this over with."

Richie started for the door first, but Richelle stopped and looked down at the boots she'd been given to wear. They were a couple sizes too big but they'd been made to fit, but somehow they didn't seem right, so she went back into the bedroom, and emerged a minute later when Richie doubled back for her, and she stepped out wearing the spiked boots that they'd found under Kronos' bed when they first arrived at the other house.

"There," she said, "That's better."

Richie laughed and pulled her along with him and said, "Come on, let's go find the 4 Stooges."

They went downstairs just as Methos came up to them and he said, "Alright, we're getting ready to move out."

"Where're we going?" Richelle asked.

"We're going to attack the Hunters on their own territory, since last night they've been holed up at one of their hideouts and we're going to draw them out and slaughter them."

"Fine with me, when do we leave?" she asked.

"Not so fast," Methos grabbed her, "Since you're going to be a stand-in for Kronos so to speak, you and Caspian are going to follow behind us. Richie will come with me, and Kronos and Silas are going to follow behind you, that way we can ambush them when they think they've got Kronos in their line of fire. Now, do you know how to drive a car, Richelle?"

"Yes," she replied sharply, "Connor taught me."

Methos rolled his eyes and commented dryly, "Oh _that_ makes me feel a lot better."

"Shut up, Scarecrow," Richelle told him.

"Can't I go with them?" Richie asked Methos.

"No, you're going to stay with me, that way I can keep an eye on you and I don't have to worry about you fowling this up, I know you're loyal to your sister, Richie, but this is something we've got to do. I know you don't like it, nobody said you had to."

"But what if…" Richie started to talk but Methos cut him off.

"That's why Caspian's going to be with her, if anything happens he can take the hit and she can keep moving, it's just a distraction to buy us some time, could prove very useful tonight."

"And who knows?" Richelle added, "Could even be fun." She turned back to her brother and held her hand out, "Ready to go, Richie?"

He looked at her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it assuredly and said, "Ready or not, here we go."


	20. Chapter 20

Author's note: At long last we have reached the end of this story. Thanks to everybody who read it and put up with the long gaps in between chapters, and I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas!

It was pitch dark out when they left. As planned, Methos and Richie went in one car, Richelle and Caspian in the next, and Silas and Kronos followed behind them. They drove on a back road and each car stayed at least 50 feet away from the others, though they kept in contact through radios in their cars. Richelle didn't know how things were going in the other cars but as she drove on the dark, bumpy road, there wasn't a single word exchanged between she and the psychopath in the passenger seat. The only thing to break the silence finally was static coming through on the radio, followed by Methos' instructions, "Up a couple hundred yards we're going to get back onto a paved road in something resembling civilization; remember we don't want to draw any attention to ourselves so whatever you do, make sure you don't catch the eyes of any speed cops."

"Why, what's the worst that could happen with that?" Caspian asked into the radio.

Richelle turned her head slightly to the side to look at him as she responded, "You never saw The Blues Brothers, did you, dragon puss?"

"Oh shut up," he told her.

The mind numbing silence resumed and continued for most of the remainder of the drive to the Hunters' hideout. As they neared the final destination, Richelle chose to break up the silence by asking the man sitting next to her, "Are you _sure_ that this is going to work?"

"Why wouldn't it?" he wanted to know.

She looked at him again and said, "Well _you_ made the bombs, didn't you?"

Richelle heard a low, primal growl building under his breath and she cut him off and added, "Let's just get something straight you little psycho, we've all got our jobs tonight, _I'm_ the arsonist, and _you're_ the bomb maker, now let's try and keep our jobs straight and we might _just_ have a chance of coming out of this alive." She pressed harder on the accelerator as they turned a steep curve as they started uphill and told him, "I don't know about you but I'm in no mood to die tonight."

There was something to the power of suggestion though; as she drove her mind started flashing on the last couple of years of her life, little bits and pieces came and went from her memory: Connor, Richie, New York, Seacouver, Tessa, Duncan, the antique shop, the St. Cloud Brothers, the crash, the hospital, it all blurred together after a while. She had no _intention_ of dying tonight, no matter what happened, and she knew it would be a massacre, she was going to make sure she was alive to see it all and be among the last standing, right alongside her brother, and then they were both going to get the hell out of here and away from these crazy people. It was fun while it lasted but Richelle noticed how lately it had been very easy to slip into this new way of life and they didn't belong here, and they both knew it.

Up ahead she saw the first car start to slow down and the brake lights came on, so she hit the brakes as well and pulled up behind them, and they got out. She went over to her brother and the scarecrow and asked Methos, "Alright, so where's the place?"

"Over there," he pointed to a dark building a few hundred feet up the road.

"It doesn't look like anybody's there," Richie noted.

"Well they are," Methos told him.

"How do you know?"

"Walls have ears," Methos said coyly, "Especially in the technological age."

"Okay, but how do you know that they're not waiting for us to come in so they can ambush us and kill us?" Richelle asked.

"Oh they know we're coming," Methos explained, "But that's all they know, not when, not where, not how."

The twins looked at each other with a mutual expression that said somehow that didn't make either of them feel any better.

"Alright," Methos said to Richelle, "You remember what you're supposed to do?"

She just nodded, suddenly she didn't have it in her to say anything.

"Alright, you two go ahead, and the rest of us will follow," Methos told them.

Reluctantly, Richelle followed behind Caspian up the road leading to the building. She kept her eyes open for any sudden signs of life, but there were none, and she kept her ears open for any sounds belonging to someone who wasn't among them, and again there were none. Still, she said nothing incase anyone would be eavesdropping on them, though she wondered _how_ they were supposed to get in the building undetected, that was one thing that they hadn't run by her.

From somewhere behind them, a shot rang out, Richelle froze and listened, and then heard an electrical hissing sound and she realized that the solution had been in putting out the electricity, and what better way to do that than to sever the wires from the building with a bullet? She glanced back to see if she could tell who had pulled the trigger, but Caspian grabbed her by the arm and jerked her forward and she carried on alongside him. Since the whole place had already been dark, maybe they didn't know yet that the power was out, but more likely they knew and were starting to plot what their retaliation should be.

They came up to the first floor of the headquarters and Richelle realized the windows were too low to be for the actual first floor but must've led to a basement instead. They opened the windows and dropped down to the floor below. Working in the dark, they got the bombs and the charges set all around the room, then they found the door and worked their way out and up. They got a few more rooms ready to blow before they heard the commotion from upstairs and went to join the fight.

Richelle came up behind one Hunter and she choked him and knocked him out, then she punched another one in the face and down he went too. She heard a shot ring out and knew that it had been meant for her, but she felt nothing. Realistically she knew that it didn't mean the vest did its job, but rather that in the dark, the gunman had missed her, an easy enough mistake to make. During the scuffle she got separated from Caspian, and made her way over to another room where she dealt with two other men, one of which she kicked in the stomach repeatedly with the spiked boots she was wearing. But as soon as they went down, somebody else hit her over the head and down she went, her head throbbing and everything went quiet. She came to when she realized she had been shoved facedown into a large body of water and somebody was trying to drown her. She tried struggling but with no luck, just as she was starting to run out of air she felt the grip on her loosen and then felt somebody else jerking her up.

The lights didn't need to be on for Richelle to realize that it was her brother who had saved her. Richie had come into the room, knocked out her attacker, and jerked her out of the large tank of water.

"Boy you really gotta wonder what the hell goes on in this place," she said as her teeth chattered. The water had been borderline freezing and with the power out there was no chance of getting warm, and Richie knew it. He had his sister take off her soaking jacket and shirt and the vest and he put his jacket on her and zipped it up.

"Come on, sis," he said, "We're getting out of here."

"What?" Richelle asked, "Now?"

"We've got to," he said, "Methos and his brothers have the others distracted and we've got to get back to the house and get you in a different change of clothes. Do you still have the key to the car?"

She nodded and pulled them out of her pants pocket. Richie took them and working his way along in the dark, guided his sister to the nearest exit, which was a window on the ground floor.

"Boy you sure know how to make your way around in the dark, don't you?" Richelle commented.

"Well it _was_ how I used to break into places," he reminded her.

Once they were out, Richelle waved back to the place and said, "Sorry we can't stay and don't think it hasn't been fun, but we've gotta go now."

Richie got her in the car and got the heat on full blast and drove them out of there and made his way back to the house. Richie got the car parked and rushed his sister in out of the freezing night air, and into the nearest bathroom and turned the hot water on full blast. Richelle gave him back his jacket and pushed him out, saying she could take care of herself. Richie went to their room and found a change of her clothes, and he noticed the irony of it, they were the same clothes that she had been wearing the first day that they had been kidnapped. It was then that he happened to look down and realized that he also was wearing the same clothes _he'd_ had on when they first got snatched up. Boy, that felt like a lifetime ago, anymore it seemed like they had always lived here with these crazy Immortals.

After Richelle got out of a hot shower and changed into some dry clothes, she and Richie sat in the kitchen with the oven on and its door open so they could both heat up.

"How long do you think it'll take them to realize we're gone?" Richelle asked.

"I think once they find the car missing, they'll know," he told her.

Richelle nodded and said, "You know something, Richie, I just had a horrible thought."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Horton's goal from the beginning has always been to get the Methuselah stone, and he's been having the other Hunters do his dirty work for him in killing the Immortals."

"So," Richie caught on, "The odds are he probably wasn't even there tonight when we raided the place."

"And is probably on his way here right now because he knows Methos wouldn't risk losing the stone in a fight on _their_ territory."

As if on cue to their speculation, they heard a noise coming from the front of the house and they looked out from the kitchen and saw a gun pointed at them, and James Horton was on the other end of it.

"Smart kids, a shame you won't be around to enjoy it," he said.

Richie and his sister put their hands up and backed into the kitchen with Horton closing in on them.

"I'm done playing games," he warned them, "You're going to tell me where the stone is, or you're both going to die."

The twins looked at each other as if silently debating on it. Then Richelle put her arms down and stepped forward and said, "Alright, I'll talk."

"Richelle, don't do it!" Richie told her.

"Richie, let me do this," Richelle said, and to Horton she told him, "I'll tell you _everything_."

"Very good," Horton said as he lowered his gun.

"I'll start at the beginning," Richelle added as she sat down at the kitchen table.

Horton sat down at the table across from her, he missed the knowing look and wink that Richelle gave her brother, and that he gave in return. Richelle turned to Horton, sucked in a deep breath and said, "Well in the third grade I cheated on a history test, in the fourth grade I stole a man's wig for the school play, in the fifth grade I knocked my sister down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog."

"What is this?" Horton started to get up.

"Oh no no, I'm not done yet," Richelle reached over quicker than he could see and slammed his head hard against the table a few times. When he stopped moving, she continued with her confession.

* * *

><p>"Can you believe those two giving us the slip like that?" Methos asked as they stormed in the front door.<p>

"Don't think I can't see through that, brother," Kronos told him, "You're just relieved that they weren't in that house when we blew it up."

"I suppose so, but where are they?" Methos wanted to know.

They got their answer in an assortment of sounds coming from the kitchen. They ran in and saw Richie standing by the oven and Richelle seated at the table talking to a man laying slumped on the other side, "And then in the 9th grade I cheated on a hygiene quiz but I don't think it counts because I flunked. And then I think I'm pretty good through the 10th grade because I was out that year with ringworm. And then after that, I ate some middle of the bread without eating the crust, and then I dialed information for numbers I could've looked up for myself, oh lock me up and throw away the key."

"What the hell's going on here?" Methos asked.

They turned to the brothers and Richelle said, "Say hello to the man of the hour."

"Horton!" Methos couldn't believe it, "What's he doing here?"

"With any luck," Richelle answered, "Succumbing to a brain hemorrhage."

Methos examined the unconscious man and said, "Looks like you got him good, how'd you do it?"

"Surprisingly very easily," she answered, "So how about it, Scarecrow? Does this complete the 39 Steps? Can we go home now?"

* * *

><p>Connor was sitting on the stairs leading up to the loft when he heard Duncan come out of the next room. "What did they say?"<p>

"He said," Duncan answered, "That if I want to see them alive again, to meet him and to come alone."

"Of course," Connor said, "They always say that. Go where?"

"It's a place at the end of the city limits," Duncan answered, "The dead part of it."

"Oh yeah, with all those abandoned buildings, nice looking place for a high rise ghost town," Connor said, "Perfect place for meeting someone in a dark alley or hiding a body."

"Connor," Duncan told him, "He said come alone, and that's exactly what I'm going to do, do you understand?"

Connor held his hand up in a mock Boy Scout salute and said, "I understand perfectly. Go give them hell and bring those two back alive."

"I just don't get it," Duncan said, "All this time, and for what? What did they want? What did they do this for?"

"Ask Richie when you bring them home," Connor replied.

Duncan let out an exasperated huff and said, "I just hope they're alright."

"Oh I'm sure they are, _nobody_ is crazy enough that they would keep hostages for a whole month and _then_ kill them, not even Immortals."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better," Duncan told him.

"Who said anything about making you feel better? I'm giving you the facts," Connor said.

"Connor…"

"I already told you, Duncan, I will stay right here and wait for you to get back with the kids, now go on."

Connor stayed seated on the stairs and waited until he heard the T-bird drive away before he brought his other hand out from behind his back and said, "Oh how about that? Had my fingers crossed." He stood up and headed for the door.

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>sure<em> we're back in Seacouver?" Richelle asked as they got out of the car.

"This is the dead part of the city," Methos told her.

"No kidding," Richie said as he looked around at the buildings, "It doesn't look like anyone's lived here for years."

"That's the idea," Methos told him, "In order to make sure MacLeod keeps his focus on you, instead of chasing after us like a complete idiot, we're not merely going with a smokescreen, we're going to blow something up." He pointed ahead and told them, "MacLeod's going to come in from that way, we're going to set the bomb here, and you're going to have 30 seconds to put as much ground between you and this spot before it goes off, should be just enough time for you all to run into each other and have your little reunion."

Richelle shivered and said, "I hope he gets here soon, it's freezing out here."

As per Methos' plan, they hadn't been allowed to bring any jackets with them, the idea was they were to go back to Duncan in the same condition they were in when they were kidnapped, which meant their original clothes and nothing more.

"Hey Methos," she said over her chattering teeth, "Since this is the last time we're gonna see you freaks, I just wanted to say…well thanks for everything, it's been…really interesting."

Methos smirked and said, "Yeah it's been fun having you two around too, an improvement over those two hellhounds we're stuck with." He checked his watch and said, "MacLeod's going to be here in a minute, you two better get started."

"Right," Richie said, "Well…uh…bye."

They started walking off and once they were out of earshot, Methos asked Kronos, "The charges in place?"

"Yes."

"Caspian make this bomb?"

"Yes."

"Well then we better set it for 60 seconds instead of 30," Methos said.

"Agreed," Kronos replied.

Methos took out a small control, pressed a few buttons, and he and Kronos made a mad dash off into the other direction.

* * *

><p>Richie and Richelle were tempted to run for it in hopes of getting warm, but they decided to walk along until they saw Duncan, and <em>then<em> they'd run for it. It was late, and dark, and cold, there wasn't any moon, only a couple of dim streetlamps along the abandoned street. Finally, up ahead they could see someone stepping out of the shadows, and Richie recognized the silhouette of that person immediately.

"Mac!"

Duncan looked ahead and saw two people running towards him, "Richie!"

They had almost reached one another when the bomb went off.

BOOM!

Richie and Richelle were thrown to the ground from the impact of the blast behind them as an old building went up in flames and the debris was knocked far in every direction. Once they got the air back into them, they got back to their feet, and felt something.

"Hey," Richelle said, "Something touched me."

"Me too," Richie told her.

Richelle felt it again, "It's stinging…what is that, ash?"

Richie looked up and said, "Uh-uh."

Richelle looked up and saw what he did, it was starting to snow.

"That's odd," Richelle said, "It almost never snows in Seacouver."

They shook it from their minds though as they looked around for Duncan, at first they didn't see him. Then, they heard him calling and saw him running towards them. He skidded to an immediate stop just before he knocked Richie down and he threw his arms around the boy and hugged him tight.

"Richie, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, Mac, I'm fine," Richie answered.

He looked over Duncan's shoulder and saw that Richelle had turned away from them, her head held high enough to look straight ahead, as if she didn't care, but he knew better. Duncan saw it too, and turning towards Richelle he commented, "You cut your hair." This unexpected comment was enough to prompt her to turn around and look at him curiously, to which Duncan only added, "I like it…maybe it'll make it easier to tell you two apart now."

Before Richelle could even think of a response to that, Duncan surprised her by reaching out with one arm and pulling her into the embrace as well.

"Are you two alright?" he asked.

"Yeah sure," Richelle said as she pushed out of his grip, "Never better."

Richelle thought she could hear somebody calling her, but no, it couldn't be…could it? She turned and saw that it was! Connor was coming up the road towards them, and with the light from the fire she could see he was laughing. Richelle broke away from Duncan and Richie and ran towards him and about bowled him over as she hugged him.

"Whoa!" Connor said as he adjusted to her grip, "Take it easy, Richelle, haven't you ever seen an old man before?"

"Connor, I'm so glad to see you," Richelle said in a huff as she tried to catch her breath.

"Well I'm glad to see you too," he replied, and looking to Richie he added, "Both of you. You seem to be doing alright, did they treat you alright?" He didn't wait for an answer and said to his cousin, "Come on, Duncan, let's take them and go home."

The twins nodded and Richie walked alongside Duncan and Richelle alongside Connor, and they held onto each other's hands as they walked off into the night, but then suddenly Richelle let go of Richie's hand and pulled away from him and said, "Wait a minute, _whose_ home?"

Richie looked at the two Immortals and it was obvious that he was now wondering the same thing. _Had_ they gone through everything they had for nothing? Would nothing be changed after all this time?

Connor dismissed the question and put his arm around Richelle and said, "Come on."

* * *

><p>It was going on 2 in the morning. As they'd walked back to their cars earlier that night, Connor had suggested they stop off and pick up a couple of pizzas since Richie and his sister were most likely half past starved. By the time they got done there had been very little left, as could also be said for the two liters of coke they got to go with it. Richie was bursting at the seams to be home again and even Richelle was excited to finally be back. They'd kept mum for the most part about what had happened and what the kidnappers had done to them, and Connor decided they wouldn't push for details without giving them a day to recover.<p>

Now, Connor was asleep in a chair in the living room, Richie was asleep on the floor beside his feet, and Duncan had his hands full keeping one hand over Richelle's mouth and his other arm wrapped around her waist as he dragged her off to the bathroom. He pushed the door closed with his foot and put Richelle down and as soon as he let go of her, he told her, "I think we need to talk."

"I agree," Richelle said, and went over to the bathtub and sat on the edge of it and said, "Alright, let's talk. What about?"

Well that caught him a little off guard. "First of all, Richelle…_what_ happened to you two? What did they want?"

"It doesn't matter," Richelle told him, "The truth of the matter is Duncan, that they didn't hurt us, not _really_, oh, they slapped me around a few times, but they never laid a hand on Richie," she laughed and said, "I wouldn't let them. But another truth is that we _were_ in danger, there were other people involved, people who were trying to kill us, who had killed before, many times, and gladly…we were nothing to them, but we survived because we're smart and we're fast, and we know what we're doing."

Duncan nodded and replied, "I can see that. Apparently you two were well able to take care of yourselves."

"That's what I was trying to tell you before they got us," Richelle said, "I know that you being as old as you are, you look at Richie and think he's just a kid, and me too, but we're not…whether you like it or not we're both grown, you've got to give Richie a break for not doing everything the way you would or the way you expect him to because he's not you and he hardly knows you, we both have got to look after ourselves, and we've proven that we can."

"I know," Duncan said, "I just hate it that I wasn't able to stop them."

"Well…don't beat yourself up over that too much, they weren't really interested in us specifically, we were just being used as the bait in an experiment…see these guys kept talking about psychological warfare, they wanted to drive you crazy, get inside your mind and see what made you tick. I guess they found what they were looking for, or maybe not, because finally they said they'd gotten tired of it and of us. They told us that we could go home, and we're here now…I really _don't_ think that they'll come back for us…see we were experimented on also. They wanted to see if they could scare us, if they could break us, and they couldn't, we both resisted them every step of the way."

Duncan looked like he was having his guts ripped out with a rock, but he managed a weak smile and said, "I'm proud of you both, I'm just sorry this had to happen."

"It's over now," Richelle said, "That's all that matters."

Duncan nodded and said, "I know, and I'm glad you're back."

"Are you really?" Richelle asked.

"Yes," he answered, "Both of you."

Richelle nodded slowly and said, "Good…and now that we are back, I guess we could cut you a break too, but that doesn't mean we have to like each other."

Duncan laughed and agreed, "Nope. Come on," he nodded towards the door, "Let's get you and Richie into bed."

"That'll be an improvement over the floor, that's for sure," Richelle said as she followed him out.

* * *

><p>The next day Duncan and Connor let the twins stay in bed until 10 o' clock, it was around that time that Tessa finally got home and they both charged at the woman and about knocked her down.<p>

"Well it's good to be back," she mused, "And nice to be wanted."

"Tessa, don't ever leave us again," Richie said as he hugged her tightly.

Tessa laughed and asked them, "So what have you two been up to this whole time I was gone?"

"Oh…" they looked at each other and shook their heads, "Nothing."

Tessa managed to catch Connor alone in the kitchen for a minute and asked, "So how did everything go?"

"Oh it went off fine," he answered, "Duncan never suspected a thing."

"That's good," she replied, then asked Connor, "What happened to Richelle's hair?"

That part, Connor wasn't sure about himself, he hadn't had a chance to ask Richelle about it, so he just came up with an answer and told her, "Richie did it."

Tessa laughed and said, "Remind me never to play any of those dare games with him."

Connor laughed in response.

"Well it certainly took long enough, but hopefully Duncan's learned a thing or two after this," Connor said.

"Well I'm glad that's finally over," Tessa said, "Now we can get ready for Christmas."

"True," Connor agreed, "The first one those two are going to have spent together _and_ with both of their families."

* * *

><p>It was the night of Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except Tessa. It was almost midnight and everybody else was asleep, Duncan in their bedroom, Connor on the couch, and Richie and Richelle in the boy's bed in his own room. Of course Tessa knew that they were too old to need to be watched while they slept, but still she just couldn't resist.<p>

Quietly turning the doorknob, Tessa poked her head in and saw the brother and sister asleep alongside each other in the bed. Tessa padded in in her slippered feet and got a better look at the two as she pulled the covers up on them. They were so cute together. It had been a wonderful Christmas, keeping in step with how the last couple weeks had gone, everybody had gotten along very well. In the time since she had been home, she hadn't heard one complaint out of Duncan about Richie or his sister, and likewise she didn't hear too many complaints from Richelle about Duncan anymore.

As Tessa tucked them in for the night, she had to laugh to herself. The twins had loved everybody's presents so much, but Connor's clearly took the cake; they'd fallen asleep with them. Richie was on his back still wearing his new brown leather jacket that he'd worn all day. Connor had said it was new but Tessa noticed that it looked like it had already been worn before, but she guessed that was the new style and didn't ask. And Richelle, had fallen asleep curled on her side hugging a large green plastic Gremlin doll; personally Tessa thought it was the most hideous thing she had ever seen, but she had to admit there was something almost hypnotic to it in how one of its eyes seemed to shine when the light hit it, almost like a diamond.

She left the room as quietly as she came and padded back to her bedroom. Once Connor heard the door close, he sat up on the couch and reached behind his pillow and took out the present _he'd_ gotten from his good friend Methos. The other day he'd found a package at the door addressed to him, containing the leather jacket for Richie, the Stripe doll for Richelle, and a CD-ROM disc to pop into his computer when he got back to New York, it was marked The Hunter Chronicles, and Connor had a good idea when he got the program up it would show an X through every single name on the list. There had also been a note explaining the significance of the doll Richelle had gotten; if one eye seemed to sparkle like a gem, it was because one of the crystals for the Methuselah stone had been placed in it, and Methos was keeping the rest, so if anybody ever stumbled on his collection, they could never have the stone completed. Connor was debating with himself over whether he should explain this to Richelle, or just wait and keep her in the dark about it for a while.

For tonight, he decided it didn't matter, all that did matter was that the kids were home, they were safe, Duncan was now acting like a civilized human being towards Richelle, and she likewise was being a lot nicer towards him, and for the time being anyway, there was no more talk about 'their family' versus 'this family'. He figured that they'd been able to drive that point home well enough that the twins understood instead of being two separate families, they were all part of one, that just happened to live on opposite sides of the country. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised that they _would_ think in terms of separate families, but when it dawned on them that they were in no danger of being kept apart from one another, they both acted very surprised by this revelation. Oh well, for the time being anyway they were one big happy family, and he was all for keeping it that way. Of course he knew one day they'd go back to their old behavior, Richelle would go back to her practical jokes on Duncan and he would be counting the days until she went back to New York, but Connor knew they would be better off than they had been before.

_And Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night_, he thought to himself as he settled back down on the couch, _And God help us everyone._


End file.
